>cV>oC 


i 


a. 


i 


THE 


WHI 


AVES 


THIED  THOUSAND. 


TIE- WHITE  SLAVES 


OF 


ENGLAND. 


COMPILED  FROM  OFFICIAL  DOCUMENTS. 


WITH  TWELVE  SPIRITED   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


BY  JOHN   C.  COBDEN. 


AUBURN": 
DEEBY   AND  MILLER. 

BUFFALO: 
DERBY,  ORTON   AND   MULLIGAN. 

CINCINNATI: 

HENRY   W.   DERBY. 

1853. 


sr/t 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  In  the  year  one  thousand  eight  hundred  and 

fifty-three,  by 

DKKBY  AND  MILLEE, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  Northern  District  of  New- York. 


p? 

PREFACE. 


THE  following  pages  exhibit  a  system  of  wrong  and  outrage 
equally  abhorrent  to  justice,  civilization  and  humanity.  The 
frightful  abuses  which  are  here  set  forth,  are,  from  their  enor- 
mity, difficult  of  belief;  yet  they  are  supported  by  testimony 
the  most  impartial,  clear  and  irrefutable.  These  abuses  are 
time-honored,  and  have  the  sanction  of  a  nation  which  prides  it- 
self upon  the  freedom  of  its  Constitution;  and  which  holds  up 
its  government  to  the  nations  of  the  earth  as  a  model  of  regu- 
lated liberty.  Vain,  audacious,  false  assumption !  Let  the  ref- 
utation be  found  in  the  details  which  this  volume  furnishes,  of 
the  want,  misery  and  starvation  —  the  slavish  toil  —  the  meni- 
al degradation  of  nineteen-twentieths  of  'her  people.  Let  her 
miners,  her  operatives,  the  tenants  of  her  work-houses,  her 
naval  service,  and  the  millions  upon  millions  in  the  Emerald 
Isle  and  in  farther  India  attest  its  fallacy. 

These  are  the  legitimate  results  of  the  laws  and  institutions 
of  Great  Britain ;  and  they  reach  and  affect,  in  a  greater  or  less 
degree,  all  her  dependencies.  Her  church  and  state,  and  her 
laws  of  entail  and  primogeniture,  are  the  principal  sources  of 
the  evils  under  which  her  people  groan ;  and  until  these  are 
1*  5 


6  PREFACE. 

changed  there  is  no  just  ground  of  hope  for  an  improvement 
in  their  condition.  The  tendency  of  things  is,  indeed,  to  make 
matters  still  worse.  The  poor  are  every  year  becoming  poor- 
er, and  more  dependent  upon  those  who  feast  upon  their  suffer- 
ings ;  while  the  wealth  and  power  of  the  realm  are  annually 
concentrating  in  fewer  hands,  and  becoming  more  and  more  in- 
struments of  oppression.  The  picture  is  already  sufficiently 
revolting.  "  Nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine  children  of  the 
same  common  Father,  suffer  from  destitution,  that  the  thou- 
sandth may  revel  in  superfluities.  A  thousand  cottages  shrink 
into  meanness  and  want,  to  swell  the  dimensions  of  a  single  palace. 
The  tables  of  a  thousand  families  of  the  industrious  poor  waste 
away  into  drought  and  barrenness,  that  one  board  may  be  laden 
with  surfeits." 

From  these  monstrous  evils  there  seems  to  be  little  chance 
of  escape,  except  by  flight ;  and  happy  is  it  for  the  victims  of 
oppression,  that  an  asylum  is  open  to  them,  in  whicn  they  can 
fully  enjoy  the  rights  and  privileges,  from  which,  for  ages,  they 
have  been  debarred.  Let  them  come.  The  feudal  chains 
which  so  long  have  bound  them  can  here  be  shaken  off.  Here 
they  can  freely  indulge  the  pure  impulses  of  the  mind  and  the 
soul,  untrammeled  by  political  or  religious  tyranny.  Here 
they  can  enjoy  the  beneficent  influences  of  humane  institutions 
and  laws,  and  find  a  vast  and  ample  field  in  which  to  develop 
and  properly  employ  all  their  faculties. 

The  United  States  appear  before  the  eyes  of  the  downtrod- 
den whites  of  Europe  as  a  land  of  promise.  Thousands  of  ig- 
norant, degraded  wretches,  who  have  fled  from  their  homes  to 


PREFACE.  7 

escape  exhausting  systems  of  slavery,  annually  land  upon  our 
shores,  and  in  their  hearts  thank  God  that  he  has  created  such 
a  refuge.  This  is  the  answer  —  the  overwhelming  answer  — 
to  the  decriers  of  our  country  and  its  institutions.  These  emi- 
grants are  more  keenly  alive  to  the  superiority  of  our  institu- 
tions than  most  persons  who  have  been  bred  under  them,  and 
to  their  care  we  might  confidently  intrust  our  defence. 

We  design  to  prove  in  this  work  that  the  oligarchy  which 
owns  Great  Britain  at  the  present  day  is  the  best  friend  of  hu- 
man slavery,  and  that  its  system  is  most  barbarous  and  destruc- 
tive. Those  feudal  institutions  which  reduced  to  slavery  the 
strong-minded  race  of  whites,  are  perpetuated  in  Great  Britain, 
to  the  detriment  of  freedom  wherever  the  British  sway  extends. 
Institutions  which  nearly  every  other  civilized  country  has  abol- 
ished, and  which  are  at  least  a  century  behind  the  age,  still  curse 
the  British  islands  and  their  dependencies.  This  system  of 
slavery,  with  all  its  destructive  effects,  will  be  found  fully  illus- 
trated in  this  volume. 

Our  plan  has  been  to  quote  English  authorities  wherever  pos- 
sible. Out  of  their  own  mouths  shall  they  be  condemned. 
We  have  been  much  indebted  to  the  publications  of  distin- 
guished democrats  of  England,  who  have  keenly  felt  the  evils 
under  which  their  country  groans,  and  striven,  with  a  hearty 
will,  to  remove  them.  They  have  the  sympathies  of  civilized 
mankind  with  their  cause.  May  their  efforts  soon  be  crowned 
with  success,  for  the  British  masses  and  oppressed  nations  far 
away  in  the  East  will  shout  loud  and  long  when  the  aristocracy 
is  brought  to  the  dust ! 


f      AS  WE  HAVE   BEEN   GREAT  IN    CEIME,   LET  US  BB 

EARLY  IX  REPENTANCE.  THERE  WILL  BE  A  DAY  OF  RETRIBUTION,  WHERE- 
IN WE  SHALL  HAVE  TO  GIVE  ACCOUNT  OF  ALL  THE  TALENTS,  FACULTIES, 
AND  OPPORTUNITIES  WHICH  HAVE  BEEN  INTRUSTED  TO  US.  LET  IT  NOT 
THEN  APPEAR  THAT  OUR  SUPERIOR  POWER  HAS  BEEN  EMPLOYED  TO  OPPRESS 
OUR  FELLOW  CREATURES,  AND  OUR  SUPERIOR  LIGHT  TO  DARKEN  THE  CRE- 
ATION OF  OUR  GOD." — Wilberforce. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

General  Slavery  proceeding  from  the  existence  of  the  British 
Aristocracy.. Page    13 

CHAPTER  II. 
Slavery  in  the  British  Mines 28  • 

CHAPTER  III. 
Slavery  in  the  British  Factories 104 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Slavery  in  the  British  Workshops 168 

CHAPTER  V. 
The  Workhouse  System  of  Britain 206 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Impressment,  or  Kidnapping  White  Men  for  Slaves  in  the 

Naval  Service 257 

11 


12  CONTENTS/ 

CHAPTER  VII. 
Irish  Slavery Page  284 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
The  Menial  Slaves  of  Great  Britain 370 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Mental  and  Moral  Condition  of  the  "White  Slaves  in  Great 
Britain 379 

CHAPTER  X. 
Coolie  Slavery  in  the  British  Colonies 433 

CHAPTER  XL 
Slavery  in  British  India 441 

CHAPTER  XII. 
The  Crime  and  the  Duty  of  the  English  Government 489 


THE 


WHITE  SLAVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


CHAPTER  I. 

GENERAL   SLAVERY  PROCEEDING   FROM   THE  EXISTENCE   OF 
THE   BRITISH   ARISTOCRACY. 

WHAT  is  slavery  ?  A  system  under  which  the  time 
and  toil  of  one  person  are  compulsorily  the  property  of 
another.  The  power  of  life  and  death,  and  the  privilege 
of  using  the  lash  in  the  master,  are  not  essential,  but 
casual  attendants  of  slavery,  which  comprehends  all  in- 
voluntary servitude  without  adequate  recompense  or  the 
means  of  escape.  He  who  can  obtain  no  property  in  the 
soil,  and  is  not  represented  in  legislation,  is  a  slave ; 
for  he  is  completely  at  the  mercy  of  the  lord  of  the  soil 
and  the  holder  of  the  reins  of  government.  Sometimes 
slavery  is  founded  upon  the  inferiority  of  one  race  to 
another;  and  then  it  appears  in  its  most  agreeable 
garb,  for  the  system  may  be  necessary  to  tame  and 
civilize  a  race  of  savages.  But  the  subjection  of  the 
majority  of  a  nation  to  an  involuntary,  hopeless,  ex- 
hausting, and  demoralizing  servitude,  for  the  benefit  of 

13 


14  THE  WHITE  SLAVES 

an  idle  and  luxurious  few  of  the  same  nation,  is  slavery 
in  its  most  appalling  form.  Such  a  system  of  slavery, 
we  assert,  exists  in  Great  Britain. 

In  the  United  Kingdom,  the  land  is  divided  into 
immense  estates,  constantly  retained  in  a  few  hands; 
and  the  tendency  of  the  existing  laws  of  entail  and 
primogeniture  is  to  reduce  even  the  number  of  these 
proprietors.  According  to  McCulloch,  there  are 
77,007,048  acres  of  land  in  the  United  Kingdom,  in- 
cluding the  small  islands  adjacent.  Of  this  quantity, 
28,227,435  acres  are  uncultivated;  while,  according  to 
Mr.  Porter,  another  English  writer,  about  11,300,000 
acres,  now  lying  waste,  are  fit  for  cultivation.  The 
number  of  proprietors  of  all  this  land  is  about  50,000. 
Perhaps,  this  is  a  rather  high  estimate  for  the  present 
period.  Now  the  people  of  the  United  Kingdom  num- 
ber at  least  28,000,000.  What  a  tremendous  majority, 
then,  own  not  a  foot  of  soil !  But  this  is  not  the  worst. 
Such  is  the  state  of  the  laws,  that  the  majority  never 
can  acquire  an  interest  in  the  land.  Said  the  London 
Times,  in  1844,  "Once  a  peasant  in  England,  and  the 
man  must  remain  a  peasant  for  ever ;"  and,  says  Mr. 
Kay,  of  Trinity  College,  Cambridge — 

"  Unless  the  English  peasant  will  consent  to  tear  himself  from 
his  relations,  friends,  and  early  associations,  and  either  transplant 
himself  into  a  town  or  into  a  distant  colony,  he  has  no  chance  of 
improving  his  condition  in  the  world." 

Admit   this — admit  that   the  peasant  must  remain 


OF   ENGLAND.  15 

through  life  at  the  mercy  of  his  lord,  and  of  legislation 
in  which  his  interests  are  not  represented — and  tell  us 
if  he  is  a  freeman  ? 

-  To  begin  with  England,  to  show  the  progress  and 
effects  of  the  land  monopoly : — The  Rev.  Henry  Worsley 
states  that  in  the  year  1770,  there  were  in  England 
250,000  freehold  estates,  in  the  hands  of  250,000  different 
families ;  and  that,  in  1815,  the  whole  of  the  lands  of 
England  were  concentrated  in  the  hands  of  only  32,000 
proprietors  !     So  that,  as  the  population  increases,  the 
number   of  proprietors   diminishes.      A   distinguished 
lawyer,  who  was  engaged  in  the  management  of  estates 
in  Westmoreland   and  Cumberland  counties  in  1849, 
says — 

"  The  greater  proprietors  in  this  part  of  the  country  are  buying 
up  all  the  land,  and  including  it  in  their  settlements.  Whenever 
one  of  the  small  estates  is  put  up  for  sale,  the  great  proprietors 
outbid  the  peasants  and  purchase  it  at  all  costs.  The  consequence 
is,  that  for  some  time  past,  the  number  of  the  small  estates  has  been 
rapidly  diminishing  in  all  parts  of  the  country.  In  a  short  time 
none  of  them  will  remain,  but  all  be  merged  in  the  great  estates. 

*  *     *     The  consequence  is,  that  the  peasant's  position,  instead 
of  being  what  it  once  was — one  of  hope — is  gradually  becoming 
one  of  despair.     Unless  a  peasant  emigrates,  there  is  now  no 
chance  for  him.    It  is  impossible  for  him  to  rise  above  the  pea- 
sant class." 

The  direct  results  of  this  system  are  obvious.  Unable 
to  buy  land,  the  tillers  of  the  soil  live  merely  by  the 
sufferance  of  the  proprietors.  If  one  of  the  great  land- 
holders takes  the  notion  that  grazing  will  be  more 


16  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

profitable  than  farming,  he  may  sweep  away  the  homes 
of  his  labourers,  turning  the  poor  wretches  upon  the 
country  as  wandering  paupers,  or  driving  them  into  the 
cities  to  overstock  the  workshops  and  reduce  the  wages 
of  the  poor  workman.  And  what  is  the  condition  of 
the  peasants  who  are  allowed  to  remain  and  labour 
upon  the  vast  estates?  Let  Englishmen  speak  for 
Englishmen. 

Devon,  Somerset,  Dorset,  and  Wiltshire  are  generally 
regarded  as  presenting  the  agricultural  labourer  in  his 
most  deplorable  circumstances,  while  Lincolnshire  ex- 
hibits the  other  extreme.  We  have  good  authority  for 
the  condition  of  the  peasantry  in  all  these  counties. 
Mr.  John  Fox,  medical  officer  of  the  Cerne  Union,  in 
Dorsetshire,  says — 

"  Most  of  the  cottages  are  of  the  worst  description ;  some  mere 
mud-hovels,  and  situated  in  low  and  damp  places,  with  cesspools 
or  accumulations  of  filth  close  to  the  doors.  The  mud  floors  of 
many  are  much  below  the  level  of  the  road,  and,  in  wet  seasons, 
are  little  better  than  so  much  clay.  In  many  of  the  cottages,  the 
beds  stood  on  the  ground  floor,  which  was  damp  three  parts  of 
the  year ;  scarcely  one  had  a  fireplace  in  the  bedroom ;  and  one 
had  a  single  small  pane  of  glass  stuck  in  the  mud  wall  as  its  only 
window.  Persons  living  in  such  cottages  are  generally  very  poor, 
very  dirty,  and  usually  in  rags,  living  almost  wholly  on  bread 
and  potatoes,  scarcely  ever  tasting  any  animalfood,  and,  conse- 
quently, highly  susceptible  of  disease,  and  very  unable  to  contend 
with  it." 

Very  often,  according  to  other  equally  good  authority, 
there  is  not  more  than  one  room  for  the  whole  family, 


OF   ENGLAND.  IT 

and  the  demoralization  of  that  family  is  the  natural 
consequence.  The  Morning  Chronicle  of  November, 
1849,  said  of  the  cottages  at  Southleigh,  in  Devon — 

"  One  house,  which  our  correspondent  visited,  was  almost  a 
ruin.  It  had  continued  in  that  state  for  ten  years.  The  floor 
was  of  mud,  dipping  near  the  fireplace  into  a  deep  hollow,  which 
was  constantly  filled  with  water.  There  were  five  in  the  family 
— a  young  man  of  twenty-one,  a  girl  of  eighteen,  and  another  girl 
of  about  thirteen,  with  the  father  and  mother,  all  sleeping  to- 
gether up-stairs.  And  what  a  sleeping-room!  'In  places  it 
seemed  falling  in.  To  ventilation  it  was  an  utter  stranger.  The 
crazy  floor  shook  and  creaked  under  me  as  I  paced  it/  Yet  the 
rent  was  Is.  a  week — the  same  sum  for  which  apartments  that 
may  be  called  luxurious  in  comparison  may  be  had  in  the  model 
lodging-houses.  And  here  sat  a  girl  weaving  that  beautiful 
Honiton  lace  which  our  peeresses  wear  on  court-days.  Cottage 
after  cottage  at  Southleigh  presented  the  same  characteristics. 
Clay  floors,  low  ceilings  letting  in  the  rain,  no  ventilation ;  two 
rooms,  one  above  and  one  below;  gutters  running  through  the 
lower  room  to  let  off  the  water;  unglazed  window-frames,  now 
boarded  up,  and  now  uncovered  to  the  elements,  the  boarding 
going  for  firewood ;  the  inmates  disabled  by  rheumatism,  ague, 
and  typhus;  broad,  stagnant,  open  ditches  close  to  the  doors; 
heaps  of  abominations  piled  round  the  dwellings ;  such  are  the 
main  features  of  Southleigh ;  and  it  is  in  these  worse  than  pig- 
styes  that  one  of  the  most  beautiful  fabrics  that  luxury  demands 
or  art  supplies  is  fashioned.  The  parish  houses  are  still  worse. 
*  One  of  these,  on  the  borders  of  Devonshire  and  Cornwall,  and 
not  far  from  Launceston,  consisted  of  two  houses,  containing 
between  them  four  rooms.  In  each  room  lived  a  family  night 
and  day,  the  space  being  about  twelve  feet  square.  In  one  were 
a  man  and  his  wife  and  eight  children ;  the  father,  mother,  and 
two  children  lay  in  one  bed,  the  remaining  six  were  huddled 
'  head  and  foot'  (three  at  the  top  and  three  at  the  foot)  in  the 
other  bed.  The  eldest  girl  was  between  fifteen  and  sixteen,  the 

2* 


18  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

eldest  boy  between  fourteen  and  fifteen/  Is  it  not  horrible  to 
think  of  men  and  women  being  brought  up  in  this  foul  and  brutish 
manner  in  civilized  and  Christian  England !  The  lowest  of 
savages  are  not  worse  cared  for  than  these  children  of  a  luxurious 
and  refined  country." 

Yet  other  authorities  describe  cases  much  worse  than 
this  which  so  stirs  the  heart  of  the  editor  of  the  Morn- 
ing Chronicle.  The  frightful  immorality  consequent 
upon  such  a  mode  of  living  will  be  illustrated  fully  in 
another  portion  of  this  work. 

In  Lincolnshire,  the  cottages  of  the  peasantry  are  in  a 
better  condition  than  in  any  other  part  of  England;  but 
in  consequence  of  the  lowness  of  wages  and  the  compa- 
rative enormity  of  rents,  the  tillers  of  the  soil  are  in 
not  much  better  circumstances  than  their  rural  brethren 
in  other  counties.  Upon  an  average,  a  hard-working 
peasant  can  earn  five  shillings  a  week ;  two  shillings  of 
which  go  for  rent.  If  he  can  barely  live  when  employed, 
what  is  to  become  of  him  when  thrown  out  of  employ- 
ment ?  Thus  the  English  peasant  is  driven  to  the  most 
constant  and  yet  hopeless  labour,  with  whips  more 
terrible  than  those  used  by  the  master  of  the  negro  slave. 

In  Wales,  the  condition  of  the  peasant,  thanks  to  the 
general  system  of  lord  and  serf,  is  neither  milder  nor 
more  hopeful  than  in  England.  Mr.  Symonds,  a  com- 
missioner who  was  sent  by  government  to  examine  the 
state  of  education  in  some  of  the  Welsh  counties,  says 
of  the  peasantry  of  Brecknockshire,  Cardiganshire,  and 
Radnorshire — 


OF   ENGLAND.  19 

"  The  people  of  my  district  are  almost  universally  poor.  In 
some  parts  of  it,  wages  are  probably  lower  than  in  any  part  of 
Great  Britain.  The  evidence  of  the  witnesses,  fully  confirmed  by 
other  statements,  exhibits  much  poverty,  but  little  amended  in 
other  parts  of  the  counties  on  which  I  report  The  farmers  them- 
selves are  very  much  impoverished,  and  live  no  better  than  English 
cottagers  in  prosperous  agricultural  counties. 

"  The  cottages  in  which  the  people  dwell  are  miserable  in  the 
extreme  in  nearly  every  part  of  the  country  in  Cardiganshire, 
and  every  part  of  Brecknockshire  and  Radnorshire,  except  the 
east.  I  have  myself  visited  many  of  the  dwellings  of  the  poor, 
and  my  assistants  have  done  so  likewise.  I  believe  the  Welsh 
cottages  to  be  very  little,  if  at  all,  superior  to  the  Irish  huts  in  the 
country  districts. 

" Brick  chimneys  are  very  unusual  in  these  cottages;  those 
which  exist  are  usually  in  the  shape  of  large  cones,  the  top  being 
of  basket-work.  In  very  few  cottages  is  there  more  than  one  room, 
which  serves  the  purposes  of  living  and  sleeping.  A  large  dresser 
and  shelves  usually  form  the  partition  between  the  two ;  and 
where  there  are  separate  beds  for  the  family,  a  curtain  or  low 
board  is  (if  it  exists)  the  only  division  with  no  regular  partition. 
And  this  state  of  things  very  generally  prevails,  even  wnere  there 
is  some  little  attention  paid  to  cleanliness ;  but  the  cottages  and 
beds  are  frequently  filthy.  The  people  are  always  very  dirty*  In 
all  the  counties,  the  cottages  are  generally  destitute  of  necessary 
outbuildings,  including  even  those  belonging  to  the  farmers ;  and 
both  in  Cardiganshire  and  Radnorshire,  except  near  the  border 
of  England,  the  pigs  and  poultry  have  free  run  of  the  joint  dwell- 
ing and  sleeping  rooms." 

In  Scotland,  the  estates  of  the  nobility  are  even 
larger  than  in  England.  Small  farms  are  difficult  to 
find.  McCulloch  states  that  there  are  not  more  than 
8000  proprietors  of  land  in  the  whole  of  Scotland ;  and, 
as  in  England,  this  number  is  decreasing.  In  some 
districts,  the  cottages  of  the  peasantry  are  as  wretched 


20  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

as  any  in  England  or  Wales.  For  some  years  past,  the 
great  landholders,  such  as  the  Duke  of  Buccleuch  and 
the  Duchess  of  Sutherland,  have  been  illustrating  the 
glorious  beneficence  of  British  institutions  by  removing 
the  poor  peasantry  from  the  homes  of  their  fathers,  for 
the  purpose  of  turning  the  vacated  districts  into  deer- 
parks,  sheep-walks,  and  large  farms.  Many  a  Highland 
family  has  vented  a  curse  upon  the  head  of  the  re- 
morseless Duchess  of  Sutherland.  Most  slaveholders 
in  other  countries  feed,  shelter,  and  protect  their  slaves, 
in  compensation  for  work;  but  the  Duchess  and  her 
barbarous  class  take  work,  shelter,  food,  and  protection 
from  their  serfs  all  at  one  fell  swoop,  turning  them  upon 
the  world  to  beg  or  starve.  Scotland  has  reason — 
strong  reason — to  bewail  the  existence  of  the  British 
aristocracy. 

Next  let  us  invoke  the  testimony  of  Ireland — the 
beautiful  and  the  wretched — Ireland,  whose  people  have 
been  the  object  of  pity  to  the  nations  for  centuries — 
whose  miseries  have  been  the  burden  of  song  and  the 
theme  of  eloquence  till  they  have  penetrated  all  hearts 
save  those  of  the  oppressors — whose  very  life-blood  has 
been  trampled  out  by  the  aristocracy.  Let  us  hear  her 
testimony  in  regard  to  the  British  slave  system. 

Ireland  is  splendidly  situated,  in  a  commercial  point 
of  view,  commanding  the  direct  route  between  Northern 
Europe  and  America,  with  some  of  the  finest  harbours 
in  the  world.  Its  soil  is  rich  and  fruitful.  Its  rivers 


OF   ENGLAND. 

are  large,  numerous,  and  well  adapted  for  internal 
commerce.  The  people  are  active,  physically  and 
intellectually,  and,  everywhere  beyond  Ireland,  are 
distinguished  for  their  energy,  perseverance,  and 
success.  Yet,  in  consequence  of  its  organized  oppres- 
sion, called  government,  Ireland  is  the  home  of  miseries 
which  have  scarcely  a  parallel  upon  the  face  of  the 
earth.  The  great  landlords  spend  most  of  their  time 
in  England  or  upon  the  continent,  and  leave  their  lands 
to  the  management  of  agents,  who  have  sub-agents  for 
parts  of  the  estates,  and  these  latter  often  have  still 
inferior  agents.  Many  of  the  great  landlords  care 
nothing  for  their  estates  beyond  the  receipt  of  the  rents, 
and  leave  their  agents  to  enrich  themselves  at  the 
expense  of  the  tenantry.  Everywhere  in  Ireland,  a 
traveller,  as  he  passes  along  the  roads,  will  see  on  the 
roadsides  and  in  the  fields,  places  which  look  like 
mounds  of  earth  and  sods,  with  a  higher  heap  of  sods 
upon  the  top,  out  of  which  smoke  is  curling  upward; 
and  with  two  holes  in  the  sides  of  the  heap  next  the 
road,  one  of  which  is  used  as  the  door,  and  the  other 
as  the  window  of  the  hovel.  These  are  the  homes  of 
the  peasantry  !  Entering  a  hovel,  you  will  find  it  to 
contain  but  one  room,  formed  by  the  four  mud  walls ; 
and  in  these  places,  upon  the  mud  floor,  the  families  of 
the  peasant  live.  Men,  women,  boys,  and  girls  live 
and  sleep  together,  and  herd  with  the  wallowing  pig. 
Gaunt,  ragged  figures  crawl  out  of  these  hovels  and 


22  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

plant  the  ground  around  them  with  potatoes,  which 
constitute  the  only  food  of  the.  inmates  throughout  the 
year,  or  swarm  the  roads  and  thoroughfares  as  wretched 
beggars.  The  deplorable  condition  of  these  peasants 
was  graphically  described  by  no  less  a  person  than  Sir 
Eobert  Peel,  in  his  great  speech  on  Ireland,  in  1849 ; 
and  the  evidence  quoted  by  him  was  unimpeachable. 
But  not  only  are  the  majority  of  the  Irish  condemned 
to  exist  in  such  hovels  as  we  have  sketched  above — their 
tenure  of  these  disgusting  cabins  is  insecure.  If  they 
do  not  pay  the  rent  for  them  at  the  proper  time,  they 
are  liable  to  be  turned  adrift  even  in  the  middle  of  the 
night.  No  notice  is  necessary.  The  tenants  are  sub- 
ject to  the  tender  mercies  of  a  bailiff,  without  any 
remedy  or  appeal,  except  to  the  court  of  Heaven.  Kay 
states  that  in  1849,  more  than  50,000  families  were 
evicted  and  turned  as  beggars  upon  the  country.  An 
Englishman  who  travelled  through  Ireland  in  the  fall 
of  1849,  says— 

"  In  passing  through  some  half  dozen  counties,  Cork,  (especially 
in  the  western  portions  of  it,)  Limerick,  Clare,  Gal  way,  and 
Mayo,  you  see  thousands  of  ruined  cottages  and  dwellings  of  the 
labourers,  the  peasants,  and  the  small  holders  of  Ireland.  You 
see  from  the  roadside  twenty  houses  at  once  with  not  a  roof  upon 
them.  I  came  to  a  village  not  far  from  Castlebar,  where  the 
system  of  eviction  had  been  carried  out  only  a  few  days  before. 
Five  women  came  about  us  as  the  car  stopped,  and  on  making 
inquiry,  they  told  us  their  sorrowful  story.  They  were  not  badly 
clad ;  they  were  cleanly  in  appearance ;  they  were  intelligent ; 
they  used  no  violent  language,  but  in  the  most  moderate  terms 


OF  ENGLAND.  23 

told  us  that  on  the  Monday  week  previously  those  five  houses  had 
been  levelled.  They  told  *us  how  many  children  there  were  in 
their  families :  I  recollect  one  had  eight,  another  had  six ;  that 
the  husbands  of  three  of  them  were  in  this  country  for  the  har- 
vest ;  that  they  had  written  to  their  husbands  to  tell  them  of  the 
desolation  of  their  homes.  And,  I  asked  them,  '  What  did  the 
husbands  say  in  reply  V  They  said  '  they  had  not  been  able  to 
eat  any  breakfast !'  It  is  but  a  simple  observation,  but  it  marks 
the  sickness  and  the  sorrow  which  came  over  the  hearts  of  those 
men,  who  here  were  toiling  for  their  three  or  four  pounds,  denying 
themselves  almost  rest  at  night  that  they  might  make  a  good 
reaping  at  the  harvest,  and  go  back  that  they  might  enjoy  it  in 
the  home  which  they  had  left.  All  this  is  but  a  faint  outline  of 
what  has  taken  place  in  that  unhappy  country.  Thousands  of 
individuals  have  died  within  the  last  two  or  three  years  in  conse- 
quence of  the  evictions  which  have  taken  place." 

The  great  loss  of  life  in  the  famine  of  1847  showed 
that  the  peasantry  had  a  miserable  dependence  upon 
the  chances  of  a  good  potato  crop  for  the  means  of 
keeping  life  in  their  bodies.  Crowds  of  poor  wretches, 
after  wandering  about  for  a  time  like  the  ghosts  of 
human  beings,  starved  to  death  by  the  roadside,  victims 
of  the  murderous  policy  of  the  landed  aristocracy. 
Since  that  period  of  horror,  the  great  proprietors, 
envious  of  the  lurid  fame  achieved  by  the  Duchess  of 
Sutherland  in  Scotland,  have  been  evicting  their  tenants 
on  the  most  extensive  scale,  and  establishing  large  farms 
and  pasturages,  which  they  deem  more  profitable  than 
former  arrangements.  In  despair  at  home,  the  wretched 
Irish  are  casting  their  eyes  to  distant  lands  for  a  refuge 
from  slavery  and  starvation.  But  hundreds  of  thou- 


24  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

sands  groan  in  their  hereditary  serfdom,  without  the 
means  of  reaching  other  and  happier  countries.  The 
dearest  ties  of  family  are  sundered  by  the  force  of  want. 
The  necessity  of  seeking  a  subsistence  drives  the  father 
to  a  distant  land,  while  the  child  is  compelled  to  remain 
in  Ireland  a  pauper.  The  husband  can  pay  his  own 
passage  to  America,  perchance,  but  the  wife  must  stay 
in  the  land  of  misery.  Ask  Ireland  if  a  slave  can 
breathe  in  Great  Britain !  The  long  lamentation  of 
ages,  uniting  with  the  heart-broken  utterances  of  her 
present  wretched  bondsmen,  might  touch  even  the 
British  aristocracy  in  its  reply. 

So  much  for  the  general  condition  of  the  peasantry 
in  the  United  Kingdom.  The  miserable  consequences  of 
the  system  of  lord  and  serf  do  not  end  here.  No !  There 
are  London,  Manchester,  Birmingham,  Glasgow,  Dublin, 
and  many  other  cities  and  towns,  with  their  crowds  of 
slaves  either  in  the  factories  and  workshops,  or  in  the 
streets  as  paupers  and  criminals.  There  are  said  to  be 
upward  of  four  millions  of  paupers  in  the  United 
Kingdom !  Can  such  an  amount  of  wretchedness  be 
found  in  any  country  upon  the  face  of  the  globe  ?  To 
what  causes  are  we  to  attribute  this  amount  of  pauper- 
ism, save  to  the  monopolies  and  oppressions  of  the 
aristocracy?  Think  of  there  being  in  the  United 
Kingdom  over  eleven  million  acres  of  good  land  uncul- 
tivated, and  four  millions  of  paupers !  According  to 
Kay,  more  than  two  millions  of  people  were  kept  from 


OF  ENGLAND.  25 

starving  in  England  and  Wales,  in  1848,  by  relief  doled 
out  to  them  from  public  and  private  sources.  So  scant 
are  the  earnings  of  those  who  labour  day  and  night  in 
the  cities  and  towns,  that  they  may  become  paupers  if 
thrown  out  of  work  for  a  single  week.  Many  from 
town  and  country  are  driven  by  the  fear  of  starvation 
to  labour  in  the  mines,  the  horrors  of  which  species  of 
slavery  shall  be  duly  illustrated  farther  on  in  this 
work. 

Truly  did  Southey  write — 

"  To  talk  of  English  happiness,  is  like  talking  of  Spartan  free- 
dom ;  the  helots  are  overlooked.  In  no  country  can  such  riches 
be  acquired  by  commerce,  but  it  is  the  one  who  grows  rich  by 
the  labour  of  the  hundred.  The  hundred  human  beings  like 
himself,  as  wonderfully  fashioned  by  nature,  gifted  with  the  like 
capacities,  and  equally  made  for  immortality,  are  sacrificed  body 
and  soul.  Horrible  as  it  must  needs  appear,  the  assertion  is  true 
to  the  very  letter.  They  are  deprived  in  childhood  of  all  instruc- 
tion and  all  enjoyment — of  the  sports  in  which  childhood  instinc- 
tively indulges — of  fresh  air  by  day  and  of  natural  sleep  by  night. 
Their  health,  physical  and  moral,  is  alike  destroyed ;  they  die  of 
diseases  induced  by  unremitting  task-work,  by  confinement  in 
the  impure  atmosphere  of  crowded  rooms,  by  the  particles  of 
metallic  or  vegetable  dust  which  they  are  continually  inhaling ; 
or  they  live  to  grow  up  without  decency,  without  comfort,  and 
without  hope — without  morals,  without  religion,  and  without 
shame ;  and  bring  forth  slaves  like  themselves  to  tread  in  the 
same  path  of  misery," 

Again,  the  same  distinguished  Englishman  says,  in 
.number  twenty-six  of  Espriella's  Letters — 

"The  English  boast  of  their  liberty,  but  there  is  no  liberty  in 
England  for  the  poor.    They  are  no  longer  sold  with  the  soil,  it 
B 


26  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

is  true ;  but  they  cannot  quit  the  soil  if  there  be  any  probability 
or  suspicion  that  age  or  infirmity  may  disable  them.  If,  in  such 
a  case,  they  endeavour  to  remove  to  some  situation  where  they 
hope  more  easily  to  maintain  themselves,  where  work  is  more 
plentiful  or  provisions  cheaper,  the  overseers  are  alarmed,  the 
intruder  is  apprehended,  as  if  he  were  a  criminal,  and  sent  back 
to  his  own  parish.  Wherever  a  pauper  dies,  that  parish  must  be 
at  the  cost  of  his  funeral.  Instances,  therefore,  have  not  been 
wanting  of  wretches,  in  the  last  stage  of  disease,  having  been 
hurried  away  in  an  open  cart,  upon  straw,  and  dying  upon  the 
road.  Nay,  even  women,  in  the  very  pains  of  labour,  have  been 
driven  out,  and  have  perished  by  the  wayside,  because  the  birth- 
place of  the  child  would  be  its  parish  1" 

The  sufferings  of  the  rural  labourers — the  peasantry 
of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland — are  to  be  attributed  to 
the  fact  that  they  have  no  property  in  the  land,  and 
cannot  acquire  any.  The  law  of  primogeniture,  on 
which  the  existence  of  the  British  aristocracy  depends, 
has,  as  we  have  already  shown,  placed  the  land  and 
those  who  labour  on  it — the  soil  and  the  serfs — at  the 
disposal  of  a  few  landed  proprietors.  The  labourers  are 
not  attached  to  the  soil,  and  bought  and  sold  with  it, 
as  in  Russia.  The  English  aristocrat  is  too  cunning  to 
adopt  such  a  regulation,  because  it  would  involve  the 
necessity  of  supporting  his  slaves.  They  are  called 
freemen,  in  order  to  enable  their  masters  to  detach  them 
from  the  soil,  and  drive  them  forth  to  starve,  when  it 
suits  their  convenience,  without  incurring  any  legal 
penalty  for  their  cruelty,  such  as  the  slaveholders  of 
other  countries  would  suffer.  The  Russian,  the  Spa- 
nish, the  North  American  slaveholder  must  support  his 


OF   ENGLAND.  27 

slaves  in  sickness  and  helpless  old  age,  or  suffer  the 
penalties  of  the  law  for  his  neglect.  The  British  slave- 
holder alone  may  drive  his  slaves  forth  to  starve  in  the 
highway  by  hundreds  and  thousands;  and  no  law  of 
Great  Britain  affords  the  means  of  punishing  him  for 
his  murderous  cruelty.  His  Irish  slaves  may  be  saved 
from  starvation  by  American  bounty,  but  he  cannot  be 
punished  until  he  shall  meet  his  Judge  at  the  day  of 
final  account. 


28  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 


CHAPTER  II. 

SLAVERY  IN  THE  BRITISH  MINES. 

IN  proceeding  to  speak  more  particularly  of  the 
various  forms  of  British  slavery,  we  will  begin  with 
labour  in  the  mines — the  horrors  of  which  became 
known  to  the  world  through  reports  made  to  Parliament 
in  the  summer  of  1840.  Pressed  by  the  fear  of  general 
execration,  Parliament  appointed  a  commission  of  in- 
quiry, which,  after  a  thorough  examination  of  all  the 
mines  in  the  United  Kingdom,  made  a  voluminous  re- 
port. So  shocking  were  the  accounts  of  labour  in  the 
mines  given  by  this  commission,  that  the  delicate  nerves 
of  several  perfumed  lords  were  grievously  pained,  and 
they  denounced  the  commissioners  as  being  guilty  of 
exaggeration.  Nevertheless,  the  evidence  adduced  by 
the  officers  was  unimpeachable,  and  their  statements 
were  generally  received  as  plain  truth. 

The  mining  industry  of  the  kingdom  is  divided  into 
two  distinct  branches — that  of  the  coal  and  iron  mines, 
and  that  of  the  mines  of  tin,  copper,  lead,  and  zinc. 
The  "coal  measures/'  as  the  geological  formations 
comprising  the  strata  of  coal  are  designated,  are  vari- 
ously dispersed  in  the  middle,  northern,  and  western 


OF   ENGLAND. 


29 


portions  of  South  Britain,  and  in  a  broad  belt  of  coun- 
try which  traverses  the  centre  of  Scotland,  from  the 
shores  of  Ayrshire  to  those  of  the  Frith  of  Forth. 
There  are,  also,  some  coal-tracts  in  Ireland,  but  they 
are  of  comparatively  small  importance.  In  all  these 
districts,  the  coal  is  found  in  beds,  interstratified  for 
the  most  part  with  various  qualities  of  gritstone  and 
shale,  in  which,  in  some  of  the  districts,  occur  layers 
of  ironstone,  generally  thin,  but  sometimes  forming 
large  masses,  as  in  the  Forest  of  Dean.  When  the 
surface  of  the  coal  country  is  mountainous  and  inter- 
sected by  deep  ravines,  as  in  South  Wales,  the  mineral 
deposites  are  approached  by  holes  driven  into  the  sides 
of  the  hills ;  but  the  common  access  to  them  is  by  ver- 
tical shafts,  or  well-holes,  from  the  bottoms  of  which 
horizontal  roadways  are  extended  in  long  and  confined 
passages  through  the  coal  strata,  to  bring  all  that  is 
hewn  to  the  "pit's  eye/'  or  bottom  of  the  shaft,  for 
winding  up.  It  is  requisite  to  have  more  than  one 
shaft  in  the  same  workings ;  but  where  the  coal  lies  so 
deep  that  the  sinking  of  a  distinct  shaft  requires  an 
enormous  outlay  of  capital,  only  one  large  shaft  is 
sunk ;  and  this  is  divided  by  wooden  partitions,  or 
brattices,  into  several  distinct  channels.  There  must 
always  be  one  shaft  or  channel,  called  the  "  downcast 
pit,"  for  the  air  to  descend;  and  another,  called  the 
"upcast  pit,"  for  the  return  draught  to  ascend.  The 
apparatus  for  lowering  and  drawing  up  is  generally  in 

3* 


80  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

the  upcast  shaft.  This  is  either  a  steam-engine,  a 
horse-gin,  or  a  hand-crank.  The  thickness  of  the 
seams  that  are  wrought  varies  from  the  eighteen-inch 
seams  of  the  Lancashire  and  Yorkshire  hills,  to  the  ten- 
yard  coal  of  South  Staffordshire.  But  two,  three,  and 
four  feet  are  the  more  common  thicknesses  of  the  beds 
that  are  wrought.  When  there  is  a  good  roof,  or  hard 
rock  immediately  over  the  coal,  with  a  tolerably  solid 
floor  beneath  it,  thin  coal-seams  can  be  worked  with 
advantage,  because  the  outlay  of  capital  for  propping 
is  then  very  limited ;  but  the  very  hardness  of  the  con- 
tiguous strata  would  require  an  outlay  almost  as  great 
to  make  the  roadways  of  a  proper  height  for  human 
beings  of  any  age  to  work  in. 

By  the  evidence  collected  under  the  commission,  it  is 
proved  that  there  are  coal-mines  at  present  at  work  in 
which  some  passages  are  so  small,  that  even  the  youngest 
children  cannot  move  along  them  without  crawling  on 
their  hands  and  feet,  in  which  constrained  position  they 
drag  the  loaded  carriages  after  them ;  and  yet,  as  it  is 
impossible  by  any  outlay  compatible  with  a  profitable 
return,  to  render  such  coal-mines  fit  for  human  beings 
to  work  in,  they  never  will  be  placed  in  such  a  condi- 
tion, and,  consequently,  they  never  can  be  worked 
without  this  child  slavery !  When  the  roads  are  six 
feet  high  and  upward,  there  is  not  only  ample  space 
for  carrying  on  the  general  operations  of  the  mine,  but 
the  coals  can  be  drawn  direct  from  the  workings  to  the 


OF   ENGLAND. 


31 


foot  of  the  shaft  by  the  largest  horses ;  and  when  the 
main  roads  are  four  feet  and  a  half  high,  the  coals  may 
be  conveyed  to  the  foot  of  the  shaft  by  ponies  or  asses. 
But  when  the  main  ways  are  under  four  feet,  the  coals 
can  only  be  conveyed  by  children.  Yet,  in  many  mines, 
the  main  gates  are  only  from  twenty-four  to  thirty 
inches  high.  In  this  case,  even  the  youngest  children 
must  work  in  a  bent  position  of  the  body.  When  the 
inclination  of  the  strata  causes  all  the  workings  out  of 
the  main  ways  to  be  on  inclined  plains,  the  young 
labourers  are  not  only  almost  worked  to  death,  but  ex- 
posed to  severe  accidents  in  descending  the  plains  with 
their  loads,  out  of  one  level  into  another.  In  many  of 
the  mines,  there  is  such  a  want  of  drainage  and  ventila- 
tion, that  fatal  diseases  are  contracted  by  the  miners. 

According  to  the  report  of  the  Parliamentary  com- 
mission, about  one-third  of  the  persons  employed  in  the 
coal-mines  were  under  eighteen  years  of  age,  and  much 
more  than  one-third  of  this  number  were  under  thirteen 
years  of  age.  When  the  proprietor  employs  the  whole 
of  the  hands,  not  only  will  his  general  overseer  be  a 
respectable  person,  but  his  underlookers  will  be  taken 
from  the  more  honest,  intelligent,  and  industrious  of 
the  labouring  colliers.  Elsewhere,  the  rulers  in  pits 
are  such  as  the  rudest  class  is  likely  to  produce.  The 
great  body  of  the  children  and  young  persons  are, 
however,  of  the  families  of  the  adult  work-people  em- 
ployed in  the  pits,  or  belong  to  the  poor  population  of 
B* 


32  THE  .WHITE   SLAVES 

the  neighbourhood.  But,  in  some  districts,  there  are 
numerous  defenceless  creatures  who  pass  the  whole  of 
their  youth  in  the  most  abject  slavery,  into  which  they 
are  thrown  chiefly  by  parish  authorities,  under  the 
name  of  apprenticeship.  Said  the  Parliamentary  com- 
missioners in  their  report — 

"  There  is  one  mode  of  engaging  the  labour  of  children  and 
young  persons  in  coal-mines,  peculiar  to  a  few  districts,  which 
deserves  particular  notice,  viz.  that  by  apprenticeship.  The 
district  in  which  the  practice  of  employing  apprentices  is  most  in 
use,  is  South  Staffordshire ;  it  was  formerly  common  in  Shrop- 
shire, but  is  now  discontinued ;  it  is  still  common  in  Yorkshire, 
Lancashire,  and  the  "West  of  Scotland ;  in  all  the  other  districts,  it 
appears  to  be  unknown.  In  Staffordshire,  the  sub-commissioner 
states  that  the  number  of  children  and  young  persons  working  in 
the  mines  as  apprentices  is  exceedingly  numerous ;  that  these 
apprentices  are  paupers  or  orphans,  and  are  wholly  in  the  power 
of  the  butties  ;*  that  such  is  the  demand  for  this  class  of  children 
by  the  butties,  that  there  are  scarcely  any  boys  in  the  union 
workhouses  of  Walsall,  Wolverhampton,  Dudley,  and  Stourbridge ; 
that  these  boys  are  sent  on  trial  to  the  butties  between  the  ages 
of  eight  and  nine,  and  at  nine  are  bound  as  apprentices  for  twelve 
years,  that  is,  to  the  age  of  twenty-one  years  complete ;  that,  not- 
withstanding this  long  apprenticeship,  there  is  nothing  whatever 
in  the  coal-mines  to  learn  beyond  a  little  dexterity,  readily  ac- 
quired by  short  practice ;  and  that  even  in  the  mines  of  Cornwall, 
where  much  skill  and  judgment  is  required,  there  are  no  appren- 
tices, while,  in  the  coal-mines  of  South  Staffordshire,  the  orphan 
whom  necessity  has  driven  into  a  workhouse,  is  made  to  labour 
in  the  mines  until  the  age  of  twenty-one,  solely  for  the  benefit  of 
another." 

Thomas  Moorhouse,  a  collier  boy,  who  was  brought 

*  The  butties  are  the  men  who  superintend  the  conveyance  of  the 
coal  from  the  digger  to  the  pit-shaft. 


OF   ENGLAND.  33 

to   the    notice   of    the   Parliamentary   commissioners, 
said — 

"I  don't  know  how  old  I  am ;  father  is  dead;  I  am  a  chance 
child ;  mother  is  dead  also ;  I  don't  know  how  long  she  has  been 
dead  ;  'tis  better  na  three  years  ;  I  began  to  hurry*  when  I  was 
nine  years  old  for  William  Greenwood ;  I  was  apprenticed  to  him 
till  I  should  be  twenty-one ;  my  mother  apprenticed  me ;  I  lived 
with  Greenwood ;  I  don't  know  how  long  it  was,  but  it  was  a 
goodish  while  ;  he  was  bound  to  find  me  in  victuals  and  drink 
and  clothes ;  I  never  had  enough ;  he  gave  me  some  old  clothes 
to  wear,  which  he  bought  at  the  rag-shop  ;  the  overseers  gave  him 
a  sovereign  to  buy  clothes  with,  but  he  never  laid  it  out ;  the 
overseers  bound  me  out  with  mother's  consent  from  the  township 
of  Southowram  ;  I  ran  away  from  him  because  he  lost  my  inden- 
tures, for  he  served  me  very  bad ;  he  stuck  a  pick  into  me  twice/' 

Here  the  boy  was  made  to  strip,  and  the  commis- 
sioner, Mr.  Symonds,  found  a  large  cicatrix  likely  to 
have  been  occasioned  by  such  an  instrument,  which 
must  have  passed  through  the  glutei  muscles,  and  have 
stopped  only  short  of  the  hip-joint.  There  were  twenty 
other  wounds,  occasioned  by  hurrying  in  low  workings, 
upon  and  around  the  spinous  processes  of  the  vertebrae, 
from  the  sacrum  upward.  The  boy  continued — 

"  He  used  to  hit  me  with  the  belt,  and  mawl  or  sledge,  and 
fling  coals  at  me.  He  served  me  so  bad  that  I  left  him,  and  went 
about  to  see  if  I  could  get  a  job.  I  used  to  sleep  in  the  cabins 
upon  the  pit's  bank,  and  in  the  old  pits  that  had  done  working. 
I  laid  upon  the  shale  all  night.  I  used  to  get  what  I  could  to 
eat.  I  ate  for  a  long  time  the  candles  that  I  found  in  the  pits 
that  the  colliers  left  over  night.  I  had  nothing  else  to  eat.  I 
looked  about  for  work,  and  begged  of  the  people  a  bit.  I  got  to 


*  To  hurry  is  to  draw  or  push  the  coal-cars. 

3 


34  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

Bradford  after  a  while,  and  had  a  job  there  for  a  month  while  a 
collier's  lad  was  poorly.  When  he  came  back,  I  was  obliged  to 
leave." 

Another  case  was  related  by  Mr.  Kennedy,  one  of 
the  commissioners.  A  boy,  named  Edward  Kershaw, 
had  been  apprenticed  by  the  overseers  of  Castleton  to 
a  collier  of  the  name  of  Robert  Brierly,  residing  at 
Balsgate,  who  worked  in  a  pit  in  the  vicinity  of  Rooley 
Moor.  The  boy  was  examined,  and  from  twenty-four 
to  twenty-six  wounds  were  found  upon  his  body.  His 
posteriors  and  loins  were  beaten  to  a  jelly ;  his  head, 
which  was  almost  cleared  of  hair  on  the  scalp,  had  the 
marks  of  many  old  wounds  upon  it  which  had  healed 
up.  One  of  the  bones  in  one  arm  was  broken  below 
the  elbow,  and,  from  appearances,  seemed  to  have  been 
so  for  some  time.  The  boy,  on  being  brought  before 
the  magistrates,  was  unable  either  to  sit  or  stand,  and 
was  placed  on  the  floor  of  the  office,  laid  on  his  side  on 
a  small  cradle-bed.  It  appears  from  the  evidence,  that 
the  boy's  arm  had  been  broken  by  a  blow  with  an  iron 
rail,  and  the  fracture  had  never  been  set,  and  that  he 
had  been  kept  at  work  for  several  weeks  with  his  arm 
in  the  condition  above  described.  It  further  appeared 
in  evidence,  and  was  admitted  by  Brierly,  that  he  had 
been  in  the  habit  of  beating  the  boy  with  a  flat  piece 
of  wood,  in  which  a  nail  was  driven  and  projected  about 
half  an  inch.  The  blows  had  been  inflicted  with  such 
violence  that  they  penetrated  the  skin,  and  caused  the 


OF   ENGLAND.  35 

•wounds  above  mentioned.  The  body  of  the  boy  pre- 
sented all  the  marks  of  emaciation.  This  brutal  master 
had  kept  the  boy  at  work  as  a  wagoner  until  he  was  no 
longer  of  any  use,  and  then  sent  him  home  in  a  cart  to 
his  mother,  who  was  a  poor  widow,  residing  in  Church 
lane,  Rochdale.  And  yet  it  is  said  that  a  slave  cannot 
breathe  the  air  of  England ! 

The  want  of  instruction,  and  the  seclusion  from  the 
rest  of  the  world,  which  is  common  to  the  colliers,  give 
them  a  sad  pre-eminence  over  every  other  class  of 
labourers,  in  ignorance  and  callousness ;  and  when  they 
are  made  masters,  what  can  be  expected  ?  In  all  cases 
of  apprenticeship,  the  children  are  bound  till  they 
attain  the  age  of  twenty-one  years.  If  the  master  dies 
before  the  apprentice  attains  the  age  of  twenty-one 
years,  the  apprentice  is  equally  bound  as  the  servant 
of  his  deceased  master's  heirs,  executors,  administrators, 
and  assigns.  In  fact,  the  apprentice  is  part  of  the 
deceased  master's  goods  and  chattels  ! 

But,  to  speak  more  particularly  of  the  labour  of  the 
children : — The  employment  of  the  adult  collier  is  almost 
exclusively  in  the  "getting"  of  the  coal  from  its 
natural  resting-place,  of  which  there  are  various  me- 
thods, according  to  the  nature  of  the  seams  and  the 
habits  of  the  several  districts.  That  of  the  children 
and  young  persons  consists  principally  either  in  tending 
the  air-doors  where  the  coal- carriages  must  pass  through 
openings,  the  immediately  subsequent  stoppage  of  which 


36  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

is  necessary  to  preserve  the  ventilation  in  its  proper 
channels,  or  in  the  conveyance  of  the  coal  from  the 
bays  or  recesses  in  which  it  is  hewn,  along  the  subter- 
ranean roadways,  to  the  bottom  of  the  pit-shaft;  a 
distance  varying  from  absolute  contiguity  even  to  miles, 
in  the  great  coal-fields  of  the  North  of  England,  where 
the  depth  requires  that  the  same  expensive  shaft  shall 
serve  for  the  excavation  of  a  large  tract  of  coal.  The 
earliest  employment  of  children  in  the  pits  is  generally 
to  open  and  shut  the  doors,  upon  the  proper  custody  of 
which  the  ventilation  and  safety  of  the  whole  mine 
depends.  These  little  workmen  are  called  "trappers." 
Of  the  manner  in  which  they  pass  their  earlier  days, 
Dr.  Mitchell,  a  distinguished  Englishman,  has  given  a 
very  interesting  sketch,  which  deserves  to  be  quoted 
here  entire : — 

"  The  little  trapper,  of  eight  years  of  age,  lies  quiet  in  bed.  It 
is  now  between  two  and  three  in  the  morning,  and  his  mother 
shakes  him  and  desires  him  to  rise,  and  tells  him  that  his  father 
has  an  hour  ago  gone  off  to  the  pit.  He  turns  on  his  side,  rubs 
his  eyes,  and  gets  up,  and  comes  to  the  blazing  fire  and  puts  on 
his  clothes.  His  coffee,  such  as  it  is,  stands  by  the  side  of  the 
fire,  and  bread  is  laid  down  for  him.  The  fortnight  is  now  well 
advanced,  the  money  all  spent,  and  butter,  bacon,  and  other 
luxurious  accompaniments  of  bread,  are  not  to  be  had  at  break- 
fast till  next  pay-day  supply  the  means.  He  then  fills  his  tin. 
bottle  with  coffee  and  takes  a  lump  of  bread,  sets  out  for  the  pit, 
into  which  he  goes  down  in  the  cage,  and  walking  along  the 
horseway  for  upward  of  a  mile,  he  reaches  the  barrow-way,  over 
which  the  young  men  and  boys  push  the  trams  with  the  tubs  on 
rails  to  the  flats,  where  the  barrow- way  and  horse-way  meet,  and 


OF   ENGLAND.  87 

where,  the  tubs  are  transferred  to  rolleys  or  carriages  drawn  by 
horses. 

"lie  knows  his  place  of  work.  It  is  inside  one  of  the  doors 
called  trap-doors,  which  is  in  the  barrow-way,  for  the  purpose  of 
forcing  the  stream  of  air  which  passes  in  its  long,  niany-miled 
course  from  the  down-shaft  to  the  up-shaffc  of  the  pit ;  but  which 
door  must  be  opened  whenever  men  or  boys,  with  or  without  car- 
riages, may  wish  to  pass  through.  He  seats. himself  in  a  little 
hole,  about  the  size  of  a  common  fireplace,  and  with  the  string  in 
his  hand ;  and  all  his  work  is  to  pull  that  string  when  he  has  to 
open  the  door,  and  when  man  or  boy  has  passed  through,  then 
to  allow  the  door  to  shut  of  itself.  Here  it  is  his  duty  to  sit,  and 
be  attentive,  and  pull  his  string  promptly  as  any  one  approaches. 
He  may  not  stir  above  a  dozen  steps  with  safety  from  his  charge, 
lest  he  should  be  found  neglecting  his  duty,  and  suffer  for  the 
same. 

"He  sits  solitary  by  himself,  and  has  no  one  to  talk  to  him; 
for  in  the  pit  the  whole  of  the  people,  men  and  boys,  are  as  busy 
as  if  they  were  in  a  sea-fight.  He,  however,  sees  now  and  then 
the  putters  urging  forward  their  trams  through  his  gate,  and 
derives  some  consolation  from  the  glimmer  of  the  little  candle  of 
about  40  to  the  pound,  which  is  fixed  on  their  trams.  For  he 
himself  has  no  light.  His  hours,  except  at  such  times,  are  passed 
in  total  darkness.  For  the  first  week  of  his  service  in  the  pit 
his  father  had  allowed  him  candles  to  light  one  after  another, 
but  the  expense  of  three  halfpence  a  day  was  so  extravagant 
expenditure  out  of  tenpence,  the  boy's  daily  wages,  that  his 
father,  of  course,  withdrew  the  allowance  the  second  week,  all 
except  one  or  two  candles  in  the  morning,  and  the  week  after  the 
allowance  was  altogether  taken  away ;  and  now,  except  a  neigh- 
bour kinder  than  his  father  now  and  then  drop  him  a  candle  as 
he  passes,  the  boy  has  no  light  of  his  own. 

"  Thus  hour  after  hour  passes  away ;  but  what  are  hours  to 
him,  seated  in  darkness,  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth?  He  knows 
nothing  of  the  ascending  or  descending  sun.  Hunger,  however, 
though  silent  and  unseen,  acts  upon  him,  and  he  betakes  to  his 
bottle  of  coffee  and  slice  of  bread ;  and,  if  desirous,  he  may  have 

4 


38  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

the  luxury  of  softening  it  in  a  portion  of  water  in  the  pit,  which 
is  brought  down  for  man  and  beast. 

"  In  this  state  of  sepulchral  existence,  an  insidious  enemy  gains 
upon  him.  His  eyes  are  shut,  and  his  ears  fail  to  announce  the 
approach  of  a  tram.  A  deputy  overman  comes  along,  and  a 
smart  cut  of  his  yard  wand  at  once  punishes  the  culprit  and  re- 
calls him  to  his  duty ;  and  happy  was  it  for  him  that  he  fell  into 
the  hands  of  the  deputy  overman,  rather  than  one  of  the  putters ; 
for  his  fist  would  have  inflicted  a  severer  pain.  The  deputy 
overman  moreover  consoles  him  by  telling  him  that  it  was  for  his 
good  that  he  punished  him ;  and  reminds  him  of  boys,  well  known 
to  both,  who,  when  asleep,  had  fallen  down,  and  some  had  been 
severely  wounded,  and  others  killed.  The  little  trapper  believes 
that  he  is  to  blame,  and  makes  no  complaint,  for  he  dreads  being 
discharged ;  and  he  knows  that  his  discharge  would  be  attended 
with  the  loss  of  wages,  and  bring  upon  him  the  indignation  of 
his  father,  more  terrible  to  endure  than  the  momentary  vengeance 
of  the  deputy  and  the  putters  all  taken  together. 

"  Such  is  the  day-work  of  the  little  trapper  in  the  barrow-way. 

"At  last,  the  joyful  sound  of  *  Loose,  loose/  reaches  his  ears. 
The  news  of  its  being  four  o'clock,  and  of  the  order,  '  Loose,  loose/ 
having  been  shouted  down  the  shaft,  is  by  systematic  arrange- 
ment sent  for  many  miles  in  all  directions  round  the  farthest 
extremities  of  the  pit.  The  trapper  waits  until  the  last  putter 
passes  with  his  tram,  and  then  he  follows  and  pursues  his  journey 
to  the  foot  of  the  shaft,  and  takes  an  opportunity  of  getting  into 
the  cage  and  going  up  when  he  can.  By  five  o'clock  he  may 
probably  get  home.  Here  he  finds  a  warm  dinner,  baked  potatoes, 
and  broiled  bacon  lying  above  them.  He  eats  heartily  at  the 
warm  fire,  and  sits  a  little  after.  He  dare  not  go  out  to  play 
with  other  boys,  for  the  more  he  plays  the  more  he  is  sure  to 
sleep  the  next  day  in  the  pit.  He,  therefore,  remains  at  home, 
until,  feeling  drowsy,  he  then  repeats  the  prayer  taught  by  our 
blessed  Lord,  takes  off  his  clothes,  is  thoroughly  washed  in  hot 
•water  by  his  mother,  and  is  laid  in  his  bed/' 

The  evidence   of  the  Parliamentary  commissioners 


OF   ENGLAND.  '89 

proves  that  Dr.  Mitchell  has  given  the  life  of  the  young 
trapper  a  somewhat  softened  colouring.  Mr.  Scriven 
states  that  the  children  employed  in  this  way  become 
almost  idiotic  from  the  long,  dark,  solitary  confinement. 
Many  of  them  never  see  the  light  of  day  during  the 
winter  season,  except  on  Sundays. 

The  loaded  corves  drawn  by  the  hurriers  weigh  from 
two  to  five  hundred-weight.  These  carriages  are  mounted 
upon  four  cast-iron  wheels  of  five  inches  in  diameter, 
there  being,  in  general,  no  rails  from  the  headings  to  the 
main  gates.  The  children  have  to  drag  these  carriages 
through  passages  in  some  cases  not  more  than  from 
sixteen  to  twenty  inches  in  height.  Of  course,  to  ac- 
complish this,  the  young  children  must  crawl  on  their 
hands  and  feet.  To  render  their  labour  the  more  easy, 
the  sub-commissioner  states  that  they  buckle  round 
their  naked  person  a  broad  leather  strap,  to  which  is 
attached  in  front  a  ring  and  about  four  feet  of  chain, 
terminating  in  a  hook.  As  soon  as  they  enter  the  main 
gates,  they  detach  the  harness  from  the  corve,  change 
their  position  by  getting  behind  it,  and  become  "  thrust- 
ers."  The  carriage  is  then  placed  upon  the  rail,  a 
candle  is  stuck  fast  by  a  piece  of  wet  clay,  and  away 
they  run  with  amazing  swiftness  to  the  shaft,  pushing 
the  loads  with  their  heads  and  hands.  *  The  younger 
children  thrust  in  pairs. 

"  After  trapping,"  says  the  report  of  the  commissioners,  "  the 
next  labour  in  the  ascending  scale  to  which  the  children  are  put,  is 


40  THE  WHITE  SLAVES 

1  thrutching/  or  thrusting,  which  consists  in  being  helper  to  a 
'drawer/  or  *  wagoner/  who  is  master,  or  'butty/  over  the 
'  thrutcher/  In  some  pits,  the  thrutcher  has  his  head  protected 
by  a  thick  cap,  and  he  will  keep  on  his  trousers  and  clogs ;  but 
in  others,  he  works  nearly  naked.  The  size  of  the  loads  which 
he  has  to  thrutch  varies  with  the  thickness  of  the  seam ;  and  with 
the  size,  varies  his  butty's  method  of  proceeding,  which  is  either 
as  a  drawer  or  a  wagoner.  The  drawers  are  those  who  use  the 
belt  and  chain.  Their  labour  consists  in  loading,  with  the  coals 
hewn  down  by  the  '  getter/  an  oblong  tub  without  wheels,  and 
dragging  this  tub  on  its  sledge  bottom  by  means  of  a  girdle  of 
rough  leather  passing  round  the  body,  and  a  chain  of  iron  attached 
to  that  girdle  in  front,  and  hooked  to  the  sledge.  The  drawer 
has,  with  the  aid  of  his  thrutcher,  to  sledge  the  tub  in  this  man- 
ner from  the  place  of  getting  to  the  main  way,  generally,  down, 
though  sometimes  up,  a  brow  or  incline  of  the  same  steepness  as 
the  inclination  of  the  strata ;  in  descending  which  he  goes  to  the- 
front  of  his  tub,  where  his  light  is  fixed,  and,  turning  his  face  to 
it,  regulates  its  motion  down  the  hill,  as,  proceeding  back  fore- 
most, he  pulls  it  along  by  his  belt.  When  he  gets  to  the  main- 
way,  which  will  be  at  various  distances  not  exceeding  forty  or 
fifty  yards  from  his  loading-place,  he  has  to  leave  this  tub  upon  a 
low  truck  running  on  small  iron  wheels,  and  then  to  go  and  fetch 
a  second,  which  will  complete  its  load,  and  with  these  two  to 
join  with  his  thrutcher  in  pushing  it  along  the  iron  railway  to 
the  pit  bottom  to  have  the  tubs  successively  hooked  on  to  the 
drawing-rope.  Returning  with  his  tubs  empty,  he  leaves  the 
mainway,  first  with  one,  and  then  with  the  other  tub,  to  get 
them  loaded,  dragging  them  up  the  '  brow7  by  his  belt  and  chain, 
the  latter  of  which  he  now  passes  between  his  legs,  so  as  to  pull, 
face  foremost,  on  all  fours.  In  the  thin  seams,  this  labour  has 
to  be  performed  in  bays,  leading  from  the  place  of  getting  to  the 
mainways,  of  scarcely  more  than  twenty  inches  in  height,  and  in 
mainway s  of  only  two  feet  six  inches,  and  three  feet  high,  for  the 
seam  itself  will  only  be  eighteen  inches  thick. 

"Wagoning  is  a  form  of  drawing  which  comes  into  use  with 
the  more  extensive  employment  of  railways  in  the  thicker  seama. 


OP  ENGLAND.  41 

The  tubs  here  used  are  large,  and  all  mounted  on  wheels*  From 
the  place  of  getting,  the  loads  are  pushed  by  the  wagoners  with 
hands  and  heads  to  the  bottom  of  the  pit  along  the  levels ;  and 
where  they  have  to  descend  from  one  level  into  another,  this  is 
generally  done  by  a  cut  at  right  angles  directly  with  the  dip, 
down  the  'brow**  which  it  makes.  Here  there  is  a  winch  or 
pinion  for  jigging  the  wagons  down  the  incline,  with  a  jigger  at 
the  top  and  a  hooker-on  at  the  bottom  of  the  plane,  where  it  is 
such  as  to  require  these.  The  jiggers  and  the  hookers-on  are 
children  of  twelve  or  thirteen.  Sometimes  the  descent  from  one 
line  of  level  into  another  is  by  a  diagonal  cutting  at  a  small 
angle  from  the  levels,  called  a  slant,  down  which  the  wagoners 
can,  and  do,  in  some  instances,  take  their  wagons  without  jigging, 
by  their  own  manual  labour;  and  a  very  rough  process  it  is, 
owing  to  the  impetus  which  so  great  a  weight  acquires,  notwith- 
standing the  scotching  of  the  wheels." 

Mr.  Kennedy  thus  describes  the  position  of  the  chil- 
dren, in  the  combined  drawing  and  thrutching  : — 

"  The  child  in  front  is  harnessed  by  his  belt  or  chain  to  the 
wagon ;  the  two  boys  behind  are  assisting  in  pushing  it  forward. 
Their  heads,  it  will  be  observed,  are  brought  down  to  a  level  with 
the  wagon,  and  the  body  almost  in  the  horizontal  position.  This 
is  done  partly  to  avoid  striking  the  roof,  and  partly  to  gain  the 
advantage  of  the  muscular  action,  which  is  greatest  in  that  posi- 
tion. It  will  be  observed,  the  boy  in  front  goes  on  his  hands  and 
feet :  in  that  manner,  the  whole  weight  of  his  body  is,  in  fact, 
supported  by  the  chain  attached  to  the  wagon  and  his  feet,  and, 
consequently,  his  power  of  drawing  is  greater  than  it  would  be 
if  he  crawled  on  his  knees.  These  boys,  by  constantly  pushing 
against  the  wagons,  occasionally  rub  off  the  hair  from  the  crowns 
of  their  heads  so  much  as  to  make  them  almost  bald." 

In  Derbyshire,  some  of  the  pits  are  altogether  worked 
by  boys.  The  seams  are  so  thin,  that  several  have 
only  a  two-feet  headway  to  all  the  workings.  The  boy 

C  4* 


42  SHE  WHITE  SLAVES 

who  gets  the  coal,  lies  on  his  side  while  at  work.  The 
coal  is  then  loaded  in  a  barrow,  or  tub,  and  drawn 
along  the  bank  to  the  pit  mouth  by  boys  from  eight  to 
twelve  years  of  age,  on  all  fours,  with  a  dog-belt  and 
chain,  the  passages  being  very  often  an  inch  or  two 
thick  in  black  mud,  and  neither  ironed  nor  wooded. 
In  Mr.  Barnes's  pit,  these  boys  have  to  drag  the  barrows 
with  one  hundred-weight  of  coal  or  slack,  sixty  times  a 
day,  sixty  yards,  and  the  empty  barrows  back,  without 
once  straightening  their  backs,  unless  they  choose  to 
stand  under  the  shaft  and  run  the  risk  of  having  their 
heads  broken  by  coal  falling. 

In  some  of  the  mines,  the  space  of  the  workings  is 
so  small  that  the  adult  colliers  are  compelled  to  carry 
on  their  operations  in  a  stooping  posture  ;  and,  in  others, 
they  are  obliged  to  work  lying  their  whole  length  along 
the  uneven  floor,  and  supporting  their  heads  upon  a 
board  or  short  crutch.  In  these  low,  dark,  heated, 
and  dismal  chambers,  they  work  perfectly  naked.  In 
many  of  the  thin-seam  mines,  the  labour  of  «  getting" 
coal,  so  severe  for  adults,  was  found  by  the  commis- 
sioners to  be  put  upon  children  from  nine  to  twelve 
years  of  age. 

If  the  employment  of  boys  in  such  a  way  be,  as  a 
miner  said  to  the  commissioners,  "barbarity,  barbarity," 
what  are  we  to  think  of  the  slavery  of  female  children 
in  the  same  abyss  of  darkness  ?  How  shall  we  express 
our  feelings  upon  learning  that  females,  in  the  years 


COAL   GETTER. 


OF  ENGLAND.  43 

of  opening  womanhood,  are  engaged  in  th£  same  occu- 
pations as  their  male  companions,  in  circumstances 
repugnant  to  the  crudest  sense  of  decency  ?  Yet  we 
have  unimpeachable  evidence  that,  at  the  time  of  the 
investigations  of  the  commissioners,  females  were  thus 
employed ;  and  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  this  is 
still  the  case. 

The  commissioners  found  females  employed  like  the 
males  in  the  labours  of  the  mines  in  districts  of  York- 
shire and  Lancashire,  in  the  East  of  Scotland,  and  in 
Wales.  In  great  numbers  of  the  pits  visited,  the  men 
were  working  in  a  state  of  entire  nakedness,  and  were 
assisted  by  females  of  all  ages,  from  girls  of  six  years 
old  to  women  of  twenty-one  —  these  females  being 
themselves  quite  naked  down  to  the  waist.  Mr. 
Thomas  Pearce  says  that  in  the  West  Riding  of  York- 
shire— 

"  The  girls  hurry  with  a  belt  and  chain,  as  well  as  thrust. 
There  are  as  many  girls  as  boys  employed  about  here.  One  of 
the  most  disgusting  sights  I  have  ever  seen,  was  that  of  young 
females,  dressed  like  boys  in  trousers,  crawling  on  all  fours,  with 
belts  around  their  waists  and  chains  passing  between  their  legs, 
at  day-pits  at  Thurshelf  Bank,  and  in  many  small  pits  near 
Holmfirth  and  New  Mills.  It  exists  also  in  several  other  places/' 

In  the  neighbourhood  of  Halifax,  it  is  stated  that 
there  is  no  distinction  whatever  between  the  boys  and 
girls  in  their  coming  up  the  shaft  and  going  down ;  in 
their  mode  of  hurrying  or  thrusting ;  in  the  weight  of 
corves ;  in  the  distance  they  are  hurried ;  in  wages  or 


44  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

dress ;  that4  the  girls  associate  and  labour  with  men  who 
are  in  a  state  of  nakedness,  and  that  they  have  them- 
selves no  other  garment  than  a  ragged  shift,  or,  in  the 
absence  of  that,  a  pair  of  broken  trousers,  to  cover  their 
persons. 

Here  are  specimens  of  the  evidence  taken  by  the 
commissioners : — 

" Susan  Pitchforth,  aged  eleven,  Elland:  'I  have  worked  in 
this  pit  going  two  years.  I  have  one  sister  going  of  fourteen, 
and  she  works  with  me  in  the  pit.  I  am  a  thruster/ 

" '  This  child/  said  the  sub-commissioner,  '  stood  shivering 
before  me  from  cold.  The  rags  that  hung  about  her  waist  were 
once  called  a  shift,  which  was  as  black  as  the  coal  she  thrust, 
and  saturated  with  water — the  drippings  of  the  roof  and  shaft. 
During  my  examination  of  her,  the  banksman,  whom  I  had  left 
in  the  pit,  came  to  the  public-house  and  wanted  to  take  her  away, 
because,  as  he  expressed  himself,  it  was  not  decent  that  she 
should  be  exposed  to  us/ 

"  Patience  Kershaw,  aged  seventeen  :  *  I  hurry  in  the  clothes 
I  have  now  got  on,  (trousers  and  ragged  jacket;)  the  bald  place 
upon  my  head  is  made  by  thrusting  the  corves ;  the  getters  I 
work  for  are  naked  except  their  caps ;  they  pull  off  their  clothes; 
all  the  men  are  naked/ 

"  Mary  Barrett,  aged  fourteen :  '  I  work  always  without  stock- 
ings, or  shoes,  or  trousers ;  I  wear  nothing  but  my  shift ;  I  have 
to  go  up  to  the  headings  with  the  men ;  they  are  all  naked  there; 
I  am  got  well  used  to  that,  and  don't  care  much  about  it ;  I  was 
afraid  at  first,  and  did  not  like  it/  " 

In  the  Lancashire  coal-fields  lying  to  the  north  and  west  of 
Manchester,  females  are  regularly  employed  in  underground 
labour ;  and  the  brutal  policy  of  the  men,  and  the  abasement  of 
the  women,  is  well  described  by  some  of  the  witnesses  examined 
by  Mr.  Kennedy. 

"Peter  Gaskil),    collier,   at  Mr.  Lancaster's,    near  "Worsley: 


OF   ENGLAND. 


45 


'  Prefers  women  to  boys  as  drawers ;  they  are  better  to  manage, 
and  keep  the  time  better ;  they  will  fight  and  shriek  and  do  every 
thing  but  let  anybody  pass  them  ;  and  they  never  get  to  be  coal- 
getters — that  is  another  good  thing/ 

"  Betty  Harris,  aged  thirty-seven,  drawer  in  a  coal-pit,  Little 
Bolton :  '  I  have  a  belt  round  my  waist  and  a  chain  passing  be- 
tween my  legs,  and  I  go  on  my  hands  and  feet.  The  road  is  very 
steep,  and  we  have  to  hold  by  a  rope,  and  when  there  is  no  rope, 
by  any  thing  we  can  catch  hold  of.  There  are  six  women  and 
about  six  boys  and  girls  in  the  pit  I  work  in ;  it  is  very  hard 
work  for  a  woman.  The  pit  is  very  wet  where  I  work,  and  the 
water  comes  over  our  clog-tops  always,  and  I  have  seen  it  up  to 
my  thighs ;  it  rains  in  at  the  roof  terribly ;  my  clothes  are  wet 
through  almost  all  day  long.  I  never  was  ill  in  my  life  but 
when  I  was  lying-in.  My  cousin  looks  after  my  children  in  the 
daytime.  I  am  very  tired  when  I  get  home  at  night ;  I  fall  asleep 
sometimes  before  I  get  washed.  I  am  not  so  strong  as  I  was, 
and  cannot  stand  my  work  so  well  as  I  used  to  do.  I  have  drawn 
till  I  have  had  the  skin  off  me.  The  belt  and  chain  is  worse  when 
we  are  in  the  family-way.  My  feller  (husband)  has  beaten  me 
many  a  time  for  not  being  ready.  I  were  not  used  to  it  at  first, 
and  he  had  little  patience ;  I  have  known  many  a  man  beat  his 
drawer/ 

"  Mary  Glover,  aged  thirty-eight,  at  Messrs.  Foster's,  Ringley 
Bridge :  '  I  went  into  a  coal-pit  when  I  was  seven  years  old,  and 
began  by  being  a  drawer.  I  never  worked  much  in  the  pit  when 
I  was  in  the  family-way,  but  since  I  have  gave  up  having  chil- 
dren, I  have  begun  again  a  bit.  I  wear  a  shift  and  a  pair  of 
trousers  when  at  work.  I  always  will  have  a  good  pair  of  trou- 
sers. I  have  had  many  a  twopence  given  me  by  the  boatmen  on 
the  canal  to  show  my  breeches.  I  never  saw  women  work  naked, 
but  I  have  seen  men  work  without  breeches  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  Bolton.  I  remember  seeing  a  man  who  worked  stark  naked/  " 

In  the  East  of  Scotland,  the  business  of  the  females 
is  to  remove  the  coals  from  the  hewer  who  has  picked 

them  from  the  wall-face,  and  placing  them  either  on 

c* 


46  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

their  backs,  which  they  invariably  do  when  working  in 
edge-seams,  or  in  little  carts  when  on  levels,  to  carry 
them  to  the  main  road,  where  they  are  conveyed  to  the 
pit  bottom,  where,  being  emptied  into  the  ascending 
basket  of  the  shaft,  they  are  wound  by  machinery  to 
the  pit's  mouth,  where  they  lie  heaped  for  further  dis- 
tribution. Mr.  Franks,  an  Englishman,  says  of  this 
barbarous  toil — 

"  Now  when  the  nature  of  this  horrible  labour  is  taken  into 
consideration  ;  its  extreme  severity ;  its  regular  duration  of  from 
twelve  to  fourteen  hours  daily ;  the  damp,  heated,  and  unwhole- 
some atmosphere  of  a  coal-mine,  and  the  tender  age  and  sex  of 
the  workers,  a  picture  is  presented  of  deadly  physical  oppression 
and  systematic  slavery,  of  which  I  conscientiously  believe  no  one 
unacquainted  with  such  facts  would  credit  the  existence  in  the 
British  dominions." 

The  loads  of  coal  carried  on  the  backs  of  females 
vary  in  weight  from  three-quarters  of  a  hundred- weight 
to  three  hundred-weight.  In  working  edge-seams,  or 
highly  inclined  beds,  the  load  must  be  borne  to  the 
surface,  or  to  the  pit-bottom,  up  winding  stairs,  or  a 
succession  of  steep  ladders.  The  disgrace  of  this  pe- 
culiar form  of  oppression  is  said  to  be  confined  to 
Scotland,  "where,  until  nearly  the  close  of  the  last 
century,  the  colliers  remained  in  a  state  of  legal  bond- 
age, and  formed  a  degraded  caste,  apart  from  all  hu- 
manizing influences  and  sympathy."  From  all  accounts, 
they  are  not  much  improved  in  condition  at  the  present 
time. 


OF   ENGLAND.  47 

A  sub-commissioner  thus  describes  a  female  child's 
labour  in  a  Scottish  mine,  and  gives  some  of  the  evi- 
dence he  obtained : — 

"  She  has  first  to  descend  a  nine-ladder  pit  to  the  first  rest, 
even  to  which  a  shaft  is  sunk,  to  draw  up  the  baskets  or  tubs  of 
coals  filled  by  the  bearers ;  she  then  takes  her  creel  (a  basket 
formed  to  the  back,  not  unlike  a  cockle-shell,  flattened  toward 
the  back  of  the  neck,  so  as  to  allow  lumps  of  coal  to  rest  on  the 
back  of  the  neck  and  shoulders,)  and  pursues  her  journey  to  the 
wall-face,  or,  as  it  is  called  here,  the  room  of  work.  She  then 
lays  down  her  basket,  into  which  the  coal  is  rolled,  and  it  is  fre- 
quently more  than  one  man  can  do  to  lift  the  burden  on  her  back. 
The  tugs  or  straps  are  placed  over  the  forehead,  and  the  body 
bent  in  a  semicircular  form,  in  order  to  stiffen  the  arch.  Large 
lumps  of  coal  are  then  placed  on  the  neck,  and  she  then  com- 
mences her  journey  with  her  burden  to  the  bottom,  first  hanging 
her  lamp  to  the  cloth  crossing  her  head.  In  this  girl's  case,  she 
has  first  to  travel  about  fourteen  fathoms  (eighty-four  feet)  from 
wall-face  to  the  first  ladder,  which  is  eighteen  feet  high ;  leaving 
the  first  ladder,  she  proceeds  along  the  main  road,  probably  three 
feet  six  inches  to  four  feet  six  inches  high,  to  the  second  ladder, 
eighteen  feet  high ;  so  on  to  the  third  and  fourth  ladders,  till  she 
reaches  the  pit-bottom,  where  she  casts  her  load,  varying  from 
one  hundred- weight  to  one  hundred-weight  and  a  half,  in  the  tub. 
This  one  journey  is  designated  a  rake  ;  the  height  ascended,  and 
the  distance  along  the  roads  added  together,  exceed  the  height  of 
St.  Paul's  Cathedral ;  and  it  not  unfrequently  happens  that  the 
tugs  break,  and  the  load  falls  upon  those  females  who  are  follow- 
ing. However  incredible  it  may  be,  yet  I  have  taken  the  evi- 
dence of  fathers  who  have  ruptured  themselves  from  straining  to 
lift  coal  on  their  children's  backs, 

"  Janet  Gumming,  eleven  years  old,  bears  coals :  '  I  gang  with 
the  women  at  five,  and  come  up  with  the  women  at  five  at  night ; 
work  all  niglit  on  Fridays,  and  come  away  at  twelve  in  the  day. 
I  carry  the  large  bits  of  coal  from  the  wall-face  to  the  pit-bottom, 
and  the  small  pieces  called  chows  in  a  creel.  The  weight  is 


48  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

usually  a  hundred-weight,  does  not  know  how  many  pounfls 
there  are  in  a  hundred-weight,  but  it  is  some  weight  to  carry ;  it 
takes  three  journeys  to  fill  a  tub  of  four  hundred-weight.  The 
distance  varies,  as  the  work  is  not  always  on  the  same  wall ; 
sometimes  one  hundred  and  fifty  fathoms,  whiles  two  hundred 
and  fifty  fathoms.  The  roof  is  very  low ;  I  have  to  bend  my  back 
and  legs,  and  the  water  comes  frequently  up  to  the  calves  of  my 
legs.  Has  no  liking  for  the  work;  father  makes  me  like  it. 
Never  got  hurt,  but  often  obliged  to  scramble  out  of  the  pit  when 
bad  air  was  in/ 

"William  Hunter,  mining  oversman,  Arniston  Colliery:  'I 
have  been  twenty  years  in  the  works  of  Robert  Dundas,  Esq., 
and  had  much  experience  in  the  manner  of  drawing  coal,  as  well 
as  the  habits  and  practices  of  the  collier  people.  Until  the  last 
eight  months,  women  and  lasses  were  wrought  below  in  these 
works,  when  Mr.  Alexander  Maxton,  our  manager,  issued  an 
order  to  exclude  them  from  going  below,  having  some  months 
prior  given  intimation  of  the  same.  Women  always  did  the 
lifting  or  heavy  part  of  the  work,  and  neither  they  nor  the  chil- 
dren were  treated  like  human  beings,  nor  are  they  where  they 
are  employed.  Females  submit  to  work  in  places  where  no  man 
or  even  lad  could  be  got  to  labour  in ;  they  work  in  bad  roads, 
up  to  their  knees  in  water,  in  a  posture  nearly  double  ;  they  are 
below  till  the  last  hour  of  pregnancy ;  they  have  swelled  haunches 
and  ankles,  and  are  prematurely  brought  to  the  grave,  or,  what 
is  worse,  lingering  existence.  Many  of  the  daughters  of  the 
miners  are  now  at  respectable  service.  I  have  two  who  are  in 
families  at  Leith,  and  who  are  much  delighted  with  the  change/ 

"  Robert  Bald,  Esq.,  the  eminent  coal-viewer,  states  that,  *  In 
surveying  the  workings  of  an  extensive  colliery  under  ground,  a 
married  woman  came  forward,  groaning  under  an  excessive 
weight  of  coals,  trembling  in  every  nerve,  and  almost  unable  to 
keep  her  knees  from  sinking  under  her.  On  coming  up,  she 
said,  in  a  plaintive  and  melancholy  voice,  "  Oh,  sir,  this  is  sore, 
sore,  sore  work.  I  wish  to  God  that  the  first  woman  who  tried 
to  bear  coals  had  broke  her  back,  and  none  would  have  tried  it 
again." 


OF  ENGLAND.  49 

The  boxes  or  carriages  employed  in  putting  are  of 
two  kinds — the  hutchie  and  the  slype ;  the  hutchie  being 
an  oblong,  square-sided  box  with  four  wheels,  which 
usually  runs  on  a  rail ;  and  the  slype  a  wood-framed 
box,  curved  and  shod  with  iron  at  the  bottom,  holding 
from  two  and  a  quarter  to  five  hundred-weight  of  coal, 
adapted  to  the  seams  through  which  it  is  dragged.  The 
lad  or  lass  is  harnessed  over  the  shoulders  and  back 
with  a  strong  leathern  girth,  which,  behind,  is  furnished 
with  an  iron-hook,  which  is  attached  to  a  chain  fastened 
to  the  coal-cart  or  slype.  The  dresses  of  these  girls 
are  made  of  coarse  hempen  stuff,  fitting  close  to  the 
figures ;  the  coverings  to  their  heads  are  made  of  the 
same  material.  Little  or  no  flannel  is  used,  and  their 
clothing,  being  of  an  absorbent  nature,  frequently  gets 
completely  saturated  shortly  after  descending  the  pit. 
We  quote  more  of  the  evidence  obtained  by  the  com- 
missioners. It  scarcely  needs  any  comment : — 

"Margaret  Hipps,  seventeen  years  old,  pjutter,  Stoney  Rigg 
Colliery,  Stirlingshire :  '  My  employment,  after  reaching  the 
wall-face,  is  to  fill  my  bagie,  or  slype,  with  two  and  a  half  to 
three  hundred-weight  of  coal.  I  then  hook  it  on  to  my  chain  and 
drag  it  through  the  seam,  which  is  twenty-six  to  twenty-eight  inches 
high,  till  I  get  to  the  main  road — a  good  distance,  probably  two 
hundred  to  four  hundred  yards.  The  pavement  I  drag  over  is 
wet,  and  I  am  obliged  at  all  times  to  crawl  on  hands  and  feet  with 
my  bagie  hung  to  the  chain  and  ropes.  It  is  sad  sweating  and 
sore  fatiguing  work,  and  frequently  maims  the  women/ 

"  Sub-commissioner :  *  It  is  almost  incredible  that  human  beings 
can  submit  to  such  employment,  crawling  on  hands  and  knees, 
harnessed  like  horses,  over  soft,  slushy  floors,  more  difficult  than 

5 


50  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

dragging  the  same  weights  through  our  lowest  common  sewers, 
and  more  difficult  in  consequence  of  the  inclination,  which  is  fre- 
quently one  in  three  to  one  in  six/ 

"  Agnes  Moffatt,  seventeen  years  old,  coal-bearer :  '  Began 
working  at  ten  years  of  age  ;  father  took  sister  and  I  down  ;  he 
gets  our  wages.  I  fill  five  baskets ;  the  weight  is  more  than 
twenty-two  hundred-weight ;  it  takes  me  twenty  journeys.  The 
work  is  o'er  sair  for  females.  It  is  no  uncommon  for  women  to 
lose  their  burden,  and  drop  off  the  ladder  down  the  dyke  below ; 
Margaret  McNeil  did  a  few  weeks  since,  and  injured  both  legs. 
When  the  tugs  which  pass  over  the  forehead  break,  which  they 
frequently  do,  it  is  very  dangerous  to  be  under  with  a  load/ 

"Margaret  Jacques,  seventeen  years  of  age,  coal-bearer:  *I 
have  been  seven  years  at  coal-bearing ;  it  is  horrible  sore  work ; 
it  was  not  my  choice,  but  we  do  our  parents'  will.  I  make  thirty 
rakes  a  day,  with  two  hundred-weight  of  coal  on  my  creel.  It  is 
a  guid  distance  I  journey,  and  very  dangerous  on  parts  of  the 
road.  The  distance  fast  increases  as  the  coals  are  cut  down.' 

"  Helen  Reid,  sixteen  years  old,  coal-bearer :  *  I  have  wrought 
five  years  in  the  mines  in  this  part ;  my  employment  is  carrying 
coal.  Am  frequently  worked  from  four  in  the  morning  until  six 
at  night.  I  work  night-work  week  about,  (alternate  weeks.)  I 
then  go  down  at  two  in  the  day,  and  come  up  at  four  and  six  in 
the  morning.  I  can  carry  near  two  hundred-weight  on  my  back. 
I  do  not  like  the  work.  Two  years  since  the  pit  closed  upon 
thirteen  of  us,  and  we  were  two  days  without  food  or  light ;  nearly 
one  day  we  were  up  to  our  chins  in  water.  At  last  we  got  to  an 
old  shaft,  to  which  we  picked  our  way,  and  were  heard  by 
people  watching  above.  Two  months  ago,  I  was  filling  the  tubs 
at  the  pit  bottom,  when  the  gig  clicked  too  early,  and  the  hook 
caught  me  by  my  pit-clothes — the  people  did  not  hear  my  shrieks 
— my  hand  had  fast  grappled  the  chain,  and  the  great  height  of 
the  shaft  caused  me  to  lose  my  courage,  and  I  swooned.  The 
banksman  could  scarcely  remove  my  hand — the  deadly  grasp 
saved  my  life/ 

"Margaret  Drysdale,  fifteen  years  old,,  coal-putter:  'I  don't 
like  the  work,  but  mother  is  dead,  and  father  brought  me  down ; 


OF   ENGLAND.  51 

I  had  no  choice.  The  lasses  will  tell  you  that  they  all  like  the 
work  fine,  as  they  think  you  are  going  to  take  them  out  of  the 
pits.  My  employment  is  to  draw  the  carts.  I  have  harness,  or 
draw-ropes  on,  like  the  horses,  and  pull  the  carts.  Large  carts 
hold  seven  hundred-weight  and  a  half,  the  smaller  five  hundred- 
weight and  a  half.  The  roads  are  wet,  and  I  have  to  draw  the 
work  about  one  hundred  fathoms.' 

"  Katherine  Logan,  sixteen  years  old,  coal-putter :  '  Began  to 
work  at  coal-carrying  more  than  five  years  since  ;  works  in  har- 
ness now ;  draw  backward  with  face  to  tubs ;  the  ropes  and 
chains  go  under  my  pit-clothes ;  it  is  o'er  sair  work,  especially 
where  we  crawl.' 

"  Janet  Duncan,  seventeen  years  old,  coal-putter:  'Works  at 
putting,  and  was  a  coal-bearer  at  Hen-Muir  Pit  and  New  Pen- 
caitland.  The  carts  I  push  contain  three  hundred-weight  of  coal, 
being  a  load  and  a  half;  it  is  very  severe  work,  especially  when 
we  have  to  stay  before  the  tubs,  on  the  braes,  to  prevent  them 
coming  down  too  fast ;  they  frequently  run  too  quick,  and  knock 
us  down ;  when  they  run  over  fast,  we  fly  off  the  roads  and  let  them 
go,  or  we  should  be  crushed.  Mary  Peacock  was  severely  crushed 
a  fortnight  since  ;  is  gradually  recovering.  I  have  wrought  above 
in  harvest  time ;  it  is  the  only  other  work  that  ever  I  tried  my 
hand  at,  and  having  harvested  for  three  seasons,  am  able  to  say 
that  the  hardest  daylight  work  is  infinitely  superior  to  the  best 
of  coal-work/ 

"  Jane  Wood,  wife  of  James  Wood,  formerly  a  coal-drawer  and 
bearer:  'Worked  below  more  than  thirty  years.  I  have  two 
daughters  below,  who  really  hate  the  employment,  and  often 
prayed  to  leave,  but  we  canna  do  well  without  them  just  now. 
The  severe  work  causes  women  much  trouble ;  they  frequently 
have  premature  births.  Jenny  McDonald,  a  neighbour,  was  laid 
idle  six  months ;  and  William  King's  wife  lately  died  from  mis- 
carriage, and  a  vast  of  women  suffer  from  similar  causes/ 

"Margaret  Boxter,  fifty  years  old,  coal-hewer:  'I  hew  the 
coal ;  have  done  so  since  my  husband  failed  in  his  breath  ;  he  has 
been  off  work  twelve  years.  I  have  a  son,  daughter,  and  niece 
working  with  me  below,  and  we  have  sore  work  to  get  mainte- 


52  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

nance.  I  go  down  early  to  hew  the  coal  for  my  girls  to  draw ; 
my  son  hews  also.  The  work  is  not  fit  for  women,  and  men 
could  prevent  it  were  they  to  labour  more  regular ;  indeed,  men 
about  this  place  don't  wish  wives  to  work  in  mines,  but  the 
masters  seem  to  encourage  it — at  any  rate,  the  masters  never 
interfere  to  prevent  it.'  " 

"The  different  kinds  of  work  to  which  females  are  put  in  South 
Wales,  are  described  in  the  following  evidence : — 

"Henrietta  Frankland,  eleven  years  old,  drammer:  'When 
well,  I  draw  the  drams,  (carts,)  which  contain  four  to  five  hun- 
dred-weight of  coal,  from  the  heads  to  the  main  road ;  I  make 
forty-eight  to  fifty  journeys ;  sister,  who  is  two  years  older,  works 
also  at  dramming ;  the  work  is  very  hard,  and  the  long  hours 
before  the  pay-day  fatigue  us  much.  The  mine  is  wet  where  we 
work,  as  the  water  passes  through  the  roof,  and  the  workings  are 
only  thirty  to  thirty-three  inches  high.' 

"  Mary  Reed,  twelve  years  old,  air-door  keeper :  '  Been  five 
years  in  the  Plymouth  mine.  Never  leaves  till  the  last  dram 
(cart)  is  drawn  past  by  the  horse.  Works  from  six  till  four  or 
five  at  night.  Has  run  home  very  hungry ;  runs  along  the  level 
or  hangs  on  a  cart  as  it  passes.  Does  not  like  the  work  in  the 
dark ;  would  not  mind  the  daylight  work.7 

"  Hannah  Bowen,  sixteen  years  old,  windlass-woman :  *  Been 
down  two  years  ;  it  is  good  hard  work ;  work  from  seven  in  the 
morning  till  three  or  four  in  the  afternoon  at  hauling  the  wind- 
lass. Can  draw  up  four  hundred  loads  of  one  hundred-weight 
and  a  half  to  four  hundred-weight  each.' 

"  Ann  Thomas,  sixteen  years  old,  windlass-woman :  '  Finds 
the  work  very  hard ;  two  women  always  work  the  windlass 
below  ground.  We  wind  up  eight  hundred  loads.  Men  do  not 
like  the  winding,  it  is  too  hard  work  for  them?  " 

The  commissioners  ascertained  that  when  the  work- 
people were  in  full  employment,  the  regular  hours  for 
children  and  young  persons  were  rarely  less  than 
eleven ;  more  often  they  were  twelve ;  in  some  districts, 


OF   ENGLAND.  53 

they  are  thirteen ;  and,  in  one  district,  they  are  gene- 
rally fourteen  and  upward.  In  Derbyshire,  south  of 
Chesterfield,  from  thirteen  to  sixteen  hours  are  con- 
sidered a  day's  work.  Of  the  exhausting  effects  of  such 
labour  for  so  long  a  time,  we  shall  scarcely  need  any 
particular  evidence.  But  one  boy,  named  John  Bos- 
tock,  told  the  commissioners  that  he  had  often  been 
made  to  work  until  he  was  so  tired  as  to  lie  down  on 
his  road  home  until  twelve  o'clock,  when  his  mother 
had  come  and  led  him  home ;  and  that  he  had  some- 
times been  so  tired  that  he  could  not  eat  his  dinner, 
but  had  been  beaten  and  made  to  work  until  night. 
Many  other  cases  are  recorded : — 

"  John  Rawson,  collier,  aged  forty :  '  I  work  at  Mr.  Sorby's 
pit,  Handsworth.  I  think  the  children  are  worked  overmuch 
sometimes/— Report,  No.  81,  p.  243,  1.  25. 

"  Peter  Waring,  collier,  Billingby :  *  I  never  should  like  my 
children  to  go  in.  They  are  not  beaten  ;  it  is  the  work  that  hurts 
them ;  it  is  mere  slavery,  and  nothing  but  it.' — Ibid.  No.  125, 
p.  256,  1.  6. 

"John  Hargreave,  collier,  Thorpe's  Colliery:  'Hurrying  is 
heavy  work  for  children.  They  ought  not  to  work  till  they  are 
twelve  years  old,  and  then  put  two  together  for  heavy  corves.' — • 
Ibid.  No.  130,  p.  256,  1.  44. 

"  Mr.  Timothy  Marshall,  collier,  aged  thirty-five,  Darton :  *  I 
think  the  hurrying  is  what  hurts  girls,  and  it  is  too  hard  work 
for  their  strength  ;  I  think  that  children  cannot  be  educated  after 
they  once  get  to  work  in  pits ;  they  are  both  tired  and  even  dis- 
inclined to  learn  when  they  have  done  work/ — Ibid.  No.  141,  p. 
262,  1.  39. 

"A  collier  at  Mr.  Travis's  pit:  'The  children  get  but  little 
schooling ;  six  or  seven  out  of  nine  or  ten  know  nothing.  They 

5* 


54  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

never  go  to  night-schools,  except  some  odd  ones.  When  the 
children  get  home,  they  cannot  go  to  school,  for  they  have  to  be 
up  so  early  in  the  morning— soon  after  four — and  they  cannot  do 
without  rest/— Ibid.  No.  94,  p.  246,  1.  33. 

"  Mr.  George  Armitage,  aged  thirty-six,  formerly  collier  at 
Silkstone,  now  teacher  at  Hay  land  School :  '  Little  can  be  learnt 
merely  on  Sundays,  and  they  are  too  tired  as  well  as  indisposed 
to  go  to  night-schools.  I  am  decidedly  of  opinion  that  when 
trade  is  good,  the  work  of  hurriers  is  generally  continuous ;  but 
when  there  are  two  together,  perhaps  the  little  one  will  have  a 
rest  while  the  big  one  is  filling  or  riddling/ — Ibid.,  No.  138,  p. 
261,  1.  24. 

"  William  Firth,  between  six  and  seven  years  old,  Deal  Wood 
Pit,  Flockton :  '  I  hurry  with  my  sister.  I  don't  like  to  be  in  pit. 
I  was  crying  to  go  out  this  morning.  It  tires  me  a  good  deal/ — 
Ibid.  No.  218,  p.  282,  1.  11. 

"John  Wright,  hurrier  in  Thorpe's  colliery:  'I  shall  be  nine 
years  old  next  Whitsuntide.  It  tires  me  much.  It  tires  my 
arms.  I  have  been  two  years  in  the  pit,  and  have  been  hurrying 
all  the  time.  It  tries  the  small  of  my  arms/ — Ibid.  No.  129,  p. 
256,  1.  31. 

"Daniel  Dunchfield:  'I  am  going  in  ten;  I  am  more  tired  in 
the  forenoon  than  at  night ;  it  makes  my  back  ache ;  I  work  all 
day  the  same  as  the  other  boys;  I  rest  me  when  I  go  home  at 
night;  I  never  go  to  play  at  night;  I  get  my- supper  and  go  to  bed/ 
—Ibid.  No.  63,  p.  238, 1.  32. 

"  George  Glossop,  aged  twelve :  *  I  help  to  fill  and  hurry,  and  am 
always  tired  at  night  when  Pve  done/ — Ibid.  No.  50,  p.  236, 1. 21. 

"Martin  Stanley:  *I  tram  by  myself,  and  find  it  very  hard 
work.  It  tires  me  in  my  legs  and  shoulders  every  day/ — Ibid. 
No.  69,  p.  240,  1.  27. 

"  Charles  Hoyle :  *  I  was  thirteen  last  January.  I  work  in  the 
thin  coal-pit.  I  find  it  very  hard  work.  We  work  at  night  one 
week,  and  in  the  day  the  other.  It  tires  me  very  much  some- 
times. It  tires  us  most  in  the  legs,  especially  when  we  have  to 
go  on  our  hands  and  feet.  I  fill  as  well  as  hurry/ — Ibid.  No.  78, 
p.  242,  1.  41. 


OF  ENGLAND.  55 

"  Jonathan  Clayton,  thirteen  and  a  half  years  old,  Soap  Work 
Colliery,  Sheffield:  '  Hurrying  is  very  hard  work;  when  I  got 
home  at  night,  I  was  knocked  up/ — Ibid.  No.  6,  p.  227,  1.  48. 

"  Andrew  Roger,  aged  seventeen  years :  *I  work  for  my  father, 
who  is  an  undertaker.  I  get,  and  have  been  getting  two  years. 
I  find  it  very  hard  work  indeed ;  it  tires  me  very  much  ;  I  can 
hardly  get  washed  of  a  night  till  nine  o'clock,  I  am  so  tired.' — 
Ibid.  No.  60,  p.  237,  1.  49. 

["  '  This  witness/  says  the  sub-commissioner,  t  when  examined 
in  the  evening  after  his  work  was  over,  ached  so  much  that  he 
could  not  stand  upright.'] — Ibid.  s.  109  ;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  181. 

"Joseph  Reynard,  aged  nineteen,  Mr.  StanclifFe's  pit,  Mirfield: 
'  I  began  hurrying  when  I  was  nine  ;  I  get  now ;  I  cannot  hurry, 
because  one  leg  is  shorter  than  the  other.  I  have  had  my  hip 
bad  since  I  was  fifteen.  I  am  very  tired  at  nights.  I  worked  in 
a  wet  place  to-day.  I  have  worked  in  places  as  wet  as  I  have 
been  in  to-day/ 

["  '  I  examined  Joseph  Reynard ;  he  has  several  large  abscesses 
in  his  thigh,  from  hip-joint  disease.  The  thigh-bone  is  dislocated 
from  the  same  cause  ;  the  leg  is  about  three  inches  shorter ;  two 
or  three  of  the  abscesses  are  now  discharging.  No  appearance  of 
puberty  from  all  the  examinations  I  made.  I  should  not  think 
him  more  than  eleven  or  twelve  years  of  age,  except  from  his 
teeth.  I  think  him  quite  unfit  to  follow  any  occupation,  much 
less  the  one  he  now  occupies. 

Signed,  "  '  U.  BRADBURY,  Surgeon/] 

"  'This  case,'  says  the  sub-commissioner,  'is  one  reflecting  the 
deepest  discredit  on  his  employers/ — Symons,  Evidence,  No.  272 ; 
App.  pt.  i.  p.  298, 1.  29. 

"Elizabeth  Eggley,  sixteen  years  old:  'I  find  my  work  very 
much  too  hard  for  me.  I  hurry  alone.  It  tires  me  in  my  arms 
and  back  most.  I  am  sure  it  is  very  hard  work,  and  tires 
us  very  much ;  it  is  too  hard  work  for  girls  to  do.  We  some- 
times go  to  sleep  before  we  get  to  bed/ — Ibid.  No.  114,  p.  252, 
1.  44. 

"Ann  Wilson,  aged  ten  and  a  half  years,  Messrs.  Smith's 
:  '  Sometimes  the  work  tires  us  when  we  have  a  good  bit 


56  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

to  do ;  it  tires  me  in  my  back.    I  hurry  by  myself.    I  push  with 
my  head/— Ibid.  No.  229,  p.  224,  1.  12. 

"  Elizabeth  Day,  hurrier,  Messrs.  Hopwood's  pit,  Barnsley: 
'  It  is  very  hard  work  for  us  all.  It  is  harder  work  than  we 
ought  to  do,  a  deal.  I  have  been  lamed  in  my  back,  and  strained 
in  my  back/— Ibid.  No.  80,  p.  244,  1.  33. 

"  Mary  Shaw :  *  I  am  nineteen  years  old.  I  hurry  in  the  pit 
you  were  in  to-day.  I  have  ever  bin  n  much  tired  with  my  work/ 
—Ibid.  No.  123,  p.  249,  1.  38. 

"  Ann  Eggley,  hurrier  in  Messrs.  Thorpe's  colliery :  '  The 
work  is  far  too  hard  for  me ;  the  sweat  runs  off  me  all  over  some- 
times. I  am  very  tired  at  night.  Sometimes  when  we  get  home 
at  night,  we  have  not  power  to  wash  us,  and  then  we  go  to  bed. 
•Sometimes  we  fall  asleep  in  the  chair.  Father  said  last  night  it 
was  both  a  shame  and  a  disgrace  for  girls  to  work  as  we  do,  but 
fihere  was  nought  else  for  us  to  do.  The  girls  are  always  tired/ 
—Ibid.  No.  113,  p.  252,  1.  17. 

"  Elizabeth  Coats :  'I  hurry  with  my  brother.  It  tires  me  a 
great  deal,  and  tires  my  back  and  arms/ — Ibid.  No.  115,  p.  252, 
1.59. 

"  Elizabeth  Ibbitson,  at  Mr.  Harrison's  pit,  Gomersel :  '  I  don't 
like  being  at  pit ;  I  push  the  corf  with  my  head,  and  it  hurts  me, 
and  is  sore/— Ibid.  No.  266,  p.  292,  1.  17. 

"  Margaret  Gomley,  Lindley  Moor,  aged  nine :  '  Am  very  tired/ 
— Scriven,  Evidence,  No.  9  ;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  103,  1.  34. 

"James  Mitchell,  aged  twelve,  Messrs.  Holt  and  Hebblewaite's : 
'  I  am  very  tired  when  I  get  home ;  it  is  enough  to  tire  a  horse ; 
and  stooping  so  much  makes  it  bad/ — Ibid.  No.  2,  p.  101,  1.  32. 

"William  Whittaker,  aged  sixteen,  Mr.  Rawson's  colliery:  'I 
am  always  very  tired  when  I  go  home/ — Ibid.  No.  13,  p.  104, 1.  55. 

"  George  Wilkinson,  aged  thirteen,  Low  Moor :  *  Are  you  tired 
now  ?  Nay.  Were  you  tired  then  ?  Yea.  What  makes  the 
difference  ?  I  can  hurry  a  deal  better  now/ —  W.  E.  Wood,  Esq., 
Evidence,  No.  18,  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  h  11,  1.  30. 
>  "  John  Stevenson,  aged  fourteen,  Low  Moor :  '  Has  worked  in 
a  coal-pit  eight  years  ;  went  in  at  six  years  old ;  used  to  rue  to 
go  in  j  does  not  rue  now ;  it  was  very  hard  when  he  went  in>  and 


m 


OF   ENGLAND.  5T 

"  I  were  nobbud  a  right  little  one."  Was  not  strong  enough 
when  he  first  went ;  had  better  have  been  a  little  bigger  ;  used 
to  be  very  tired  ;  did  not  when  he  first  went.  I  waur  ill  tired/ 
—Ibid.  No.  15,  p.  h  10,  1.  39. 

"  Jabez  Scott,  aged  fifteen,  Bowling  Iron  Works  :  '  Work  is 
very  hard  ;  sleeps  well  sometimes;  sometimes  is  very  ill  tired  and 
cannot  sleep  so  well/ — Ibid.  No.  38,  p.  h  10,  1.  29. 

"  William  Sharpe,  Esq.,  F.  R.  S.,  surgeon,  Bradford,  states : 
'  That  he  has  for  twenty  years  professionally  attended  at  the  Low 
Moor  Iron  Works  ;  that  there  are  occasionally  cases  of  deformity, 
and  also  bad  cases  of  scrofula,  apparently  induced  by  the  boys 
being  too  early  sent  into  the  pits,  by  their  working  beyond  their 
strength,  by  their  constant  stooping,  and  by  occasionally  working 
in  water/  "—Ibid.  No.  60,  p.  h  27,  1.  45. 

The  statements  of  the  children,  as  will  be  seen,  are 
confirmed  by  the  evidence  of  the  adult  work-people,  in 
which  we  also  find  some  further  developments : — 

"William  Fletcher,  aged  thirty-three,  collier,  West  Hallam: 
*  Considers  the  collier's  life  a  very  hard  one  both  for  man  and 
boy,  the  latter  full  as  hard  as  the  former/— Report,  No.  37,  p. 
279,  1.  17. 

"John  Beasley,  collier,  aged  forty-nine,  Shipley:  'He  has 
known  instances  where  the  children  have  been  so  overcome  with 
the  work,  as  to  cause  them  to  go  off  in  a  decline ;  he  has  seen 
those  who  could  not  get  home  without  their  father's  assistance, 
and  have  fallen  asleep  before  they  could  be  got  to  bed ;  has  known 
children  of  six  years  old  sent  to  the  pit,  but  thinks  there  are 
none  at  Shipley  under  seven  or  eight ;  it  is  his  opinion  a  boy  is 
too  weak  to  stand  the  hours,  even  to  drive  between,  until  he  is 
eight  or  nine  years  old ;  the  boys  go  down  at  six  in  the  morning, 
and  has  known  them  kept  down  until  nine  or  ten,  until  they  are 
almost  ready  to  exhaust ;  the  children  and  young  persons  work 
the  same  hours  as  the  men ;  the  children  are  obliged  to  work  in 
the  night  if  the  wagon-road  is  out  of  repair,  or  the  water  coming 
on  them ;  it  happens  sometimes  two  or  three  times  in  the  week ; 

5 


58  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

they  then  go  down  at  six  p.  M.  to  six  A.  M.,  and  have  from  ten 
minutes  to  half  an  hour  allowed  for  supper,  according  to  the 
work  they  have  to  do ;  they  mostly  ask  the  children  who 
have  been  at  work  the  previous  day  to  go  down  with  them, 
but  seldom  have  to  oblige  them ;  when  he  was  a  boy,  he  has 
worked  for  thirty-six  hours  running  many  a  time,  and  many 
more  besides  himself  have  done  so.' — Ibid.  No.  40,  p.  274,  1.  23. 

"  William  Wardle,  aged  forty,  Eastwood :  '  There  is  no  doubt 
colliers  are  much  harder  worked  than  labourers ;  indeed,  it  is  the 
hardest  work  under  heaven/ — Ibid.  No.  84,  p.  287,  1.  51. 

"  Samuel  Richards,  aged  forty,  Awsworth :  '  There  are  Sunday- 
schools  when  they  will  go ;  but  when  boys  have  been  beaten, 
knocked  about,  and  covered  with  sludge  all  the  week,  they  want 
to  be  in  bed  to  rest  all  day  on  Sunday.7 — Ibid.  No.  166,  p.  307, 
1.58. 

"  William  Sellers,  operative,  aged  twenty-two,  Butterley  Com- 
pany :  *  When  he  first  worked  in  the  pit,  he  has  been  so  tired 
that  he  slept  as  he  walked.'-— Ibid.  No.  222,  p.  319,  1.  35. 

"  William  Knighton,  aged  twenty-four,  Denby :  '  He  remembers 
"mony"  a  time  he  has  dropped  asleep  with  the  meat  in  his 
mouth  through  fatigue;  it  is  those  butties — they  are  the  very 
devil;  they  impose  upon  them  in  one  way,  then  in  another.' — 
Ibid.  No.  314,  p.  334,  1.  42. 

" ,  engine-man,  Babbington:  'Has,  when  working 

•whole  days,  often  seen  the  children  lie  down  on  the  pit-bank  and 
go  to  sleep,  they  were  so  tired.' — Ibid.  No.  137,  p.  300,  1.  10. 

"  John  Attenborough,  schoolmaster,  Greasley :  '  Has  observed 
that  the  collier  children  are  more  tired  and  dull  than  the  others, 
but  equally  anxious  to  learn.' — Ibid.  No.  153,  p.  304,  1.  122. 

"  Ann  Birkin :  *  Is  mother  to  Thomas  and  Jacob,  who  work  in 
Messrs.  Fenton's  pits ;  they  have  been  so  tired  after  a  whole  day's 
work,  that  she  has  at  times  had  to  wash  them  and  lift  them  into 
bed.'— Ibid.  No.  81,  p.  285,  1.  59. 

"  Hannah  Neale,  Butterley  Park :  '  They  come  home  so  tired 
that  they  become  stiff,  and  can  hardly  get  to  bed ;  Constantino, 
the  one  ten  years  old,  formerly  worked  in  the  same  pit  as  his 
brothers,  but  about  a  half  a  year  since  his  toe  was  cut  off  by  the 


.OF   ENGLAND.  59 

bind  falling;  notwithstanding  this,  the  loader  made  him  work 
until  the  end  of  the  day,  although  in  the  greatest  pain.  He  was 
out  of  work  more  than  four  months  owing  to  this  accident/ — 
Ibid.  No.  237,  p.  320,  1.  51. 

"  Ellen  Wagstaff,  Watnall :  *  Has  five  children,  three  at  Trough 
lane  and  two  at  Willow  lane,  Greasley ;  one  at  Trough  lane  is 
eighteen,  one  fourteen,  one  thirteen  years  of  age ;  and  those  at 
Willow  lane  are  sixteen  and  nineteen ;  they  are  variously  em- 
ployed ;  the  youngest  was  not  seven  years  old  when  he  first  went 
to  the  pits.  The  whole  have  worked  since  they  were  seven  or 
seven  and  a  half;  they  have  worked  from  six  to  eight ;  from  six 
to  two  for  half  days,  no  meal-time  in  half  days  ;  she  has  known 
them  when  at  full  work  so  tired  when  they  first  worked, 
that  you  could  not  hear  them  speak,  and  they  fell  asleep  before 
they  could  eat  their  suppers  ;  it  has  grieved  her  to  the  heart  to 
see  them/— Ibid.  No.  104,  p.  292,  1.  18. 

"  Ann  Wilson,  Underwood :  'Is  stepmother  to  Matthew  Wilson 
and  mother  to  Richard  Clarke.  Has  heard  what  they  have  said, 
and  believes  it  to  be  true ;  has  known  them  when  they  work 
whole  days  they  have  come  home  so  tired  and  dirty,  that  they 
could  scarcely  be  prevented  lying  down  on  the  ashes  by  the  fire- 
side, and  could  not  take  their  clothes  off;  has  had  to  do  it  for 
them,  and  take  them  to  the  brook  and  wash  them,  and  has  sat  up 
most  of  the  night  to  get  their  clothes  dry.  The  next  morning 
they  have  gone  to  work  like  bears  to  the  stake/— Ibid.  No.  112, 
p.  294,  1.  5. 

"  Hannah  Brixton,  Babbington  :  '  The  butties  slave  them  past 
any  thing.  Has  frequently  had  them  drop  asleep  as  soon  as  they 
have  got  in  the  house,  and  complain  of  their  legs  and  arms  aching 
very  bad/— Ibid.  No.  149,  p.  302,  1.  44. 

"  Michael  Wilkins :  '  Never  has  a  mind  for  his  victuals ;  never 
feels  himself  hungry/ 

"John  Charlton:  *  Thinks  the  sty  the  makes  him  bad  so  that 
he  cannot  eat  his  bait,  and  often  brings  it  all  home  with  him 
again,  or  eats  very  little  of  it/ 

"  Michael  Richardson :  '  He  never  has  much  appetite ;  and  the 
dust  often  blacks  his  victuals.  Is  always  dry  and  thirsty/ 


60  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

"William  Beaney :  '  Has  thrown  up  his  victuals  often  when  he 
came  home ;  thinks  the  bad  air  made  him  do  this/ 

"John  Thompson:  *  Often  throws  up  his  food.' 

"  Thomas  Newton :  '  Threw  up  his  victuals  last  night  when  he 
came  home.  Never  does  so  down  in  the  pit,  but  often  does  when 
he  comes  home/ 

"  Moses  Clerk :  '  Throws  up  his  victuals  nearly  every  day  at 
home  and  down  in  the  pit.' 

"  Thomas  Martin :  *  Many  times  feels  sick,  and  feels  headache, 
and  throws  up  his  food.  Was  well  before  he  went  down  in  the 
pit.' 

"  Thomas  Fawcett :  *  Many  a  night  falls  sick ;  and  he  many 
times  throws  up  his  meat  when  he  is  in  bed.  Sometimes  feels 
bad  and  sick  in  the  morning.' 

"  George  Alder :  '  Has  been  unwell  of  late  with  the  hard  work. 
Has  felt  very  sick  and  weak  all  this  last  week.'  (Looks  very  pale 
and  unwell.) 

"  John  Charlton :  '  Often  obliged  to  give  over.  Has  been  off 
five  days  in  the  last  month.  Each  of  these  days  was  down  in  the 
pit  and  obliged  to  come  up  again.' 

"  John  Laverick  and  others :  '  Many  times  they  fell  sick  down 
in  the  pit.  Sometimes  they  have  the  heart-burn ;  sometimes  they 
force  up  their  meat  again.  Some  boys  are  off  a  week  from  being 
sick ;  occasionally  they  feel  pains.' 

"  Six  trappers  :  *  Sometimes  they  feel  sick  upon  going  to  work 
in  the  morning.  Sometimes  bring  up  their  breakfasts  from  their 
etomachs  again.  Different  boys  at  different  times  do  this.' 

"  George  Short .  '  It  is  bad  air  where  he  is,  and  makes  him 
bad;  makes  small  spots  come  out  upon  him,  (small  pimples,) 
•which  he  thinks  is  from  the  air,  and  he  takes  physic  to  stop 
them.  His  head  works  very  often,  and  he  feels  sickish  some- 
times.' 

"Nichol  Hudderson:  'The  pit  makes  him  sick.  Has  been 
very  bad  in  his  health  ever  since  he  went  down  in  the  pit.  Was 
very  healthy  before.  The  heat  makes  him  sick.  The  sulphur 
rising  up  the  shaft  as  he  goes  down  makes  his  head  work. 
Often  so  sick  that  he  cannot  eat  when  he  gets  up,  at  least  he 


OF   ENGLAND.  61 

cannot  eat  very  much.  About  a  half  a  year  since,  a  boy  named 
John  Huggins  was  very  sick  down  in  the  pit,  and  wanted  to  come 
up,<but  the  keeper  would  not  let  him  ride,  (come  up,)  and  he 
died  of  fever  one  week  afterward.' 

["  The  father  of  this  lad  and  his  brother  fully  corroborate  this 
statement,  and  the  father  says  the  doctor  told  him  that  if  he  (the 
boy)  had  not  been  kept  in  the  pit,  he  might  have  been,  perhaps, 
saved.  This  boy  never  had  any  thing  the  matter  with  him  before 
he  went  down  into  the  pit." — Leifchild,  Evidences,  Nos.  156,  169, 
270,  83,  110,  142,  143,  374,  194,  364,  135,  100,  101 ;  App.  pt.  i. 
p.  582  et  seq.  See  also  the  statement  of  witnesses,  Nos.  315, 
327,  351,  359,  360,  361,  362,  363,  365,  377,  381,  382,  384,  403, 
434,  454,  455,  457,  464,  465,  466.] 

Similar  statements  are  made  by  all  classes  of  wit- 
nesses in  some  other  districts.  Thus,  in  Shropshire  : — 

"  A  surgeon  who  did  not  wish  his  name  to  be  published :  *  They 
are  subject  to  hypertrophy  of  the  heart,  no  doubt  laying  the 
foundation  of  such  disease  at  the  early  age  of  from  eight  to  thir- 
teen years.' — Mitchell,  Evidence,  No.  45 ;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  81,  1.  16. 

"Mr.  Michael  Thomas  Sadler,  surgeon,  Barnsley:  'I  have 
found  diseases  of  the  heart  in  adult  colliers,  which  it  struck  me 
arose  from  violent  exertion.  I  know  of  no  trade  about  here 
where  the  work  is  harder/ — Symons,  Evidence,  No.  139 ;  App. 
pt.  i.  p.  261,  1.  36. 

"  Mr.  Pearson,  surgeon  to  the  dispensary,  Wigan :  *  They  are 
very  subject  to  diseases  of  the  heart.' — Kennedy,  Report,  1.  304; 
App.  pt.  ii.  p.  189. 

"  Dr.  William  Thompson,  Edinburgh :  '  Workers  in  coal-mines 
are  exceedingly  liable  to  suffer  from  irregular  action,  and  ulti- 
mately organic  diseases  of  the  heart.' — Franks,  Evidence,  App. 
pt.  i.  p.  409. 

"  Scott  Alison,  M.  D.,  East  Lothian :  '  I  found  diseases  of  the 

heart  very  common  among  colliers  at  all  ages,  from  boyhood  up 

to  old  age.     The  most  common  of  them  were  inflammation  of 

that  organ,  and  of  its  covering,  the  pericardium,  simple  enlarge- 

D 


62  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

merit  or  hypertrophy,  contraction  of  the  auriculo-ventricular 
communications,  and  of  the  commencement  of  the  aorta.  These 
symptoms  were  well  marked,  attended  for  the  most  part  with 
increase  of  the  heart's  action,  the  force  of  its  contraction  being 
sensibly  augmented,  and,  in  many  cases,  especially  those  of  hy- 
pertrophy, much  and  preternaturally  extended  over  the  chest/ — 
Ibid.  p.  417. 

"Mr.  Thomas  Batten,  surgeon,  Coleford:  'A  boy  about  thir- 
teen years  of  age,  in  the  Parkend  Pits,  died  of  hcemorrJiagia 
purpurea,  (a  suffusion  of  blood  under  the  cuticle,)  brought  on  by 
too  much  exertion  of  the  muscles  and  whole  frame/ —  Waring, 
Evidence,  No.  36 ;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  24,  1.  21. 

To  this  list  of  diseases  arising  from  great  muscular 
exertion,  must  be  added  rupture  : — 

"  Dr.  Farell,  Sheffield :  *  Many  of  them  are  ruptured ;  nor  is 
this  by  any  means  uncommon  among  lads — arising,  in  all  proba- 
bility, form  over-exertion.' — Symons,  Evidence,  No.  47,  App.  pt. 
i.  p.  286,  1.  2. 

"  Mr.  Pearson,  surgeon  to  the  dispensary,  Wigan :  '  Colliers 
are  often  ruptured,  and  they  often  come  to  me  for  advice/-— 
Kennedy,  Report,  I.  304 ;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  189. 

"  Andrew  Grey :  *  Severe  ruptures  occasioned  by  lifting  coal. 
Many  are  ruptured  on  both  sides.  I  am,  and  suffer  severely,  and 
a  vast  number  of  men  here  are  also/ — Franks,  Evidence,  No. 
147 ;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  463,  1.  61. 

But  employment  in  the  coal-mines  produces  an- 
other series  of  diseases  incomparably  more  painful  and 
fatal,  partly  referable  to  excessive  muscular  exertion, 
and  partly  to  the  state  of  the  place  of  work — that  is, 
to  the  foul  air  from  imperfect  ventilation,  and  the  wet- 
ness from  inefficient  drainage.  Of  the  diseases  of  the 
lungs  produced  by  employment  in  the  mines,  asthma 
is  the  most  frequent. 


OF   ENGLAND.  63 

"  Mr.  William  Kartell  Baylis :  '  The  working  of  the  mines  brings 
on  asthma/ — Mitchell,  Evidence,  No.  7  ;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  65,  1.  31. 

"  A  surgeon  who  does  not  wish  his  name  to  be  published : 
'  Most  colliers,  at  the  age  of  thirty,  become  asthmatic.  There 
are  few  attain  that  age  without  having  the  respiratory  apparatus 
disordered.'— Ibid.  No.  45,  p.  81,  1.  15. 

"  Mr.  George  Marcy,  clerk  of  the  Wellington  Union :  '  Many 
applications  are  made  from  miners  for  relief  on  account  of  sick- 
ness, and  chiefly  from  asthmatic  complaints,  when  arrived  at  an 
advanced  age.  At  forty,  perhaps,  the  generality  suffer  much 
from  asthma.  Those  who  have  applied  have  been  first  to  the 
medical  officer,  who  has  confirmed  what  they  said.' — Ibid.  No.  46, 
p.  81,  1.  44. 

"  '  I  met  with  very  few  colliers  above  forty  years  of  age,  who, 
if  they  had  not  a  confirmed  asthmatic  disease,  were  not  suffering 
from  difficult  breathing.' — Fellows,  Report,  a.  57 ;  App.  pt.  ii.  p. 
256. 

"  Phoebe  Gilbert,  Watnall,  Messrs.  Barber  and  Walker :  '  She 
thinks  they  are  much  subject  to  asthma.  Her  first  husband,  who 
died  aged  57,  was  unable  to  work  for  seven  years  on  that  account/ 
— Fellows,  Evidence,  No.  105 ;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  256. 

"  William  Wardle,  collier,  forty  years  of  age,  Eastwood :  '  There 
are  some  who  are  asthmatical,  and  many  go  double/ — Ibid.  No. 
84,  p.  287,  1.  40. 

' '  Mr.  Henry  Hemmingway,  surgeon,  Dewsbury :  '  When  children 
are  working  where  carbonic  acid  gas  prevails,  they  are  rendered 
more  liable  to  affections  of  the  brain  and  lungs.  This  acid  pre- 
vents the  blood  from  its  proper  decarbonization  as  it  passes  from 
the  heart  to  the  lungs.  It  does  not  get  properly  quit  of  the 
carbon/ — Symons,  Evidence,  No.  221 ;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  282,  1.  38. 

"  Mr.  Uriah  Bradbury,  surgeon,  Mirfield :  *  They  suffer  from 
asthma/— Ibid.  No.  199,  p.  278,  1.  58. 

"Mr.  J.  B.  Greenwood,  surgeon,  Cleckheaton:  'The  cases 
which  have  come  before  me  professionally  have  been  chiefly 
affections  of  the  chest  and  asthma,  owing  to  the  damp  underfoot, 
and  also  to  the  dust  which  arises  from  the  working  of  the  coal/ 
—Ibid.  No.  200,  p.  279, 1.  8. 


64  THE  WHITE  SLAVES 

"  J.  Ibetson,  collier,  aged  fifty-three,  Birkenshaw:  'I  have  suf- 
fered from  asthma,  and  am  regularly  knocked  up.  A  collier 
cannot  stand  the  work  regularly.  He  must  stop  now  and  then, 
or  he  will  be  mashed  up  before  any  time/ — Ibid.  No.  267,  p.  292, 
1.42. 

"Joseph  Barker,  collier,  aged  forty-three,  Windybank  Pit :  *  I 
have  a  wife  and  two  children ;  one  of  them  is  twenty-two  years 
old  ;  he  is  mashed  up,  (that  is,  he  is  asthmatical,)  he  has  been  as 
good  a  worker  as  ever  worked  in  a  skin/ — Scriven,  Evidence,  No. 
14;  App.pt.  ii.  p.  104,  1.  60. 

"Mr.  George  Canney,  surgeon,  Bishop  Aukland:  'Bo  the 
children  suffer  from  early  employment  in  the  pits  ?'  '  Yes,  seven 
and  eight  is  a  very  early  age,  and  the  constitution  must  suffer  in 
consequence.  It  is  injurious  to  be  kept  in  one  position  so  long, 
and  in  the  dark.  They  go  to  bed  when  they  come  home,  and 
enjoy  very  little  air.  I  think  there  is  more  than  the  usual 
proportion  of  pulmonary  complaints/ — Mitchell,  Evidence,  No.  97; 
App.  pt.  i.  p.  154,  1.  2. 

"Mr.  Headlam,  physician,  Newcastle:  'Biseases  of  respira- 
tion are  more  common  among  pitmen  than  among  others,  dis- 
tinctly referable  to  the  air  in  which  they  work.  The  air  contains 
a  great  proportion  of  carbonic  gas,  and  carburetted  hydrogen. 
These  diseases  of  the  respiratory  organs  arise  from  the  breathing 
of  these  gases,  principally  of  the  carbonic  acid  gas. — Leif child, 
Evidence,  No.  499  ;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  67,  1.  11. 

"Mr.  Heath,  of  Newcastle,  surgeon:  'More  than  usually  lia- 
ble to  asthma ;  mostly  between  thirty  and  forty  years  of  age. 
A  person  always  working  in  the  broken  would  be  more  liable  to 
asthma.  Asthma  is  of  very  slow  growth,  and  it  is  difficult  to 
say  when  it  begins.  Custom  and  habit  will  not  diminish  the  evil 
effects,  but  will  diminish  the  sensibility  to  these  evils/ — Ibid. 
No.  497,  p.  665,  1.  10-14. 

"  Matthew  Blackburn,  driver,  fifteen  years  of  age,  Heaton  Col- 
liery :  '  Has  felt  shortness  of  breath.  Helps  up  sometimes,  but 
is  bound  to  drive.  Cannot  help  up  sometimes  for  shortness  of 
breath.  His  legs  often  work,  (ache ;)  his  shoulders  work  some- 
times. Working  in  a  wet  place/— Ibid.  No.  27,  p.  573, 1. 34, 


OF   ENGLAND.  65 

"  Dr.  S.  Scott  Alison,  East  Lothian :  *  Between  the  twentieth 
and  thirtieth  year  the  colliers  decline  in  bodily  vigour,  and 
become  more  and  more  spare ;  the  difficulty  of  breathing  pro- 
gresses, and  they  find  themselves  very  desirous  of  some  remission 
from  their  labour.  This  period  is  fruitful  in  acute  diseases,  such 
as  fever,  inflammation  of  the  lungs,  pleura,  and  many  other  ail- 
ments, the  product  of  over-exertion,  exposure  to  cold  and  wet, 
violence,  insufficient  clothing,  intemperance,  and  foul  air.  For 
the  first  few  years  chronic  bronchitis  is  usually  found  alone,  and 
unaccompanied  by  disease  of  the  body  or  lungs.  The  patient 
suffers  more  or  less  difficulty  of  breathing,  which  is  affected  by 
changes  of  the  weather,  and  by  variations  in  the  weight  of  the 
atmosphere.  He  coughs  frequently,  and  the  expectoration  is 
composed,  for  the  most  part,  of  white  frothy  and  yellowish 
mucous  fluid,  occasionally  containing  blackish  particles  of  car- 
bon, the  result  of  the  combustion  of  the  lamp,  and  also  of  minute 
coal-dust.  At  first,  and  indeed  for  several  years,  the  patient,  for 
the  most  part,  does  not  suffer  much  in  his  general  health,  eating 
heartily,  and  retaining  his  muscular  strength  in  consequence. 
The  disease  is  rarely,  if  ever,  entirely  cured ;  and  if  the  collier 
be  not  carried  off  by  some  other  lesion  in  the  mean  time,  this 
disease  ultimately  deprives  him  of  life  by  a  slow  and  lingering 
process.  The  difficulty  of  breathing  becomes  more  or  less  per- 
manent, the  expectoration  becomes  very  abundant,  effusions  of 
water  take  place  in  the  chest,  the  feet  swell,  and  the  urine  is 
secreted  in  small  quantity  ;  the  general  health  gradually  breaks 
up,  and  the  patient,  after  reaching  premature  old  age,  slips  into 
the  grave  at  a  comparatively  early  period,  with  perfect  willing- 
ness on  his  part,  and  no  surprise  on  that  of  his  family  and 
friends/ — Franks,  Evidence,  App.  pt.  i.  p.  412,  415,  Appendix  A. 

"  John  Duncan,  aged  fifty-nine,  hewer,  Pencaitland  :  *  Mining 
has  caused  my  breath  to  be  affected,  and  I  am,  like  many  other 
colliers,  obliged  to  hang  upon  my  children  for  existence.  The 
want  of  proper  ventilation  in  the  pits  is  the  chief  cause.  No  part 
requires  more  looking  to  than  East  Lothian ;  the  men  die  off  like 
rotten  sheep/— Ibid.  No.  150,  p.  464,  1.  28. 

"  George  Hogg,  thirty-two  years  of  age,   coal-hewer,  Pencait- 


66  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

land:  'Unable  to  labour  much  now,  as  am  fashed  with  bad 
breath ;  the  air  below  is  very  bad ;  until  lately  no  ventilation 
existed.'— Ibid.  No.  153,  p.  406,  1.  46.  See  also  Witnesses,  Nos. 
4,  36,  53,  131, 152, 155, 175,  275,  277,  &c. :  '  The  confined  air  and 
dust  in  which  they,  work  is  apt  to  render  them  asthmatic,  as  well 
as  to  unfit  them  for  labour  at  an  earlier  period  of  life  than  is  the 
case  in  other  employments/ — Tancred,  Report,  s.  99,  App.  pt.  i. 
p.  345. 

"  Dr.  Adams,  Glasgow :  '  Amongst  colliers,  bronchitis  or  asthma 
is  very  prevalent  among  the  older  hands.' — Tancred,  Evidence, 
No.  9  ;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  361,  1.  44. 

"  Mr.  Peter  Williams,  surgeon,  Holiwell,  North  Wales  :  '  The 
chief  diseases  to  which  they  are  liable  are  those  of  the  bronchiae. 
Miners  and  colliers,  by  the  age  of  forty,  generally  become  affected 
by  chronic  bronchitis,  and  commonly  before  the  age  of  sixty  fall 
martyrs  to  the  disease.  The  workmen  are,  for  the  most  part, 
very  healthy  and  hardy,  until  the  symptoms  of  affections  of  the 
bronchial  tubes  show  themselves.' — H.  H.  Jones,  Evidence,  No. 
95 ;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  407,  1.  8. 

"  Jeremiah  Bradley,  underground  agent,  Plaskynaston :  '  The 
men  are  apt  to  get  a  tightness  of  breath,  and  become  unfit  for  the 
pits,  even  before  sixty.'— Ibid.  No.  30,  p.  383, 1.  8. 

"  Amongst  colliers  in  South  Wales  the  diseases  most  prevalent 
are  the  chronic  diseases  of  the  respiratory  organs,  especially 
asthma  and  bronchitis.' — Franks,  Report,  s.  64;  App.  pt.  ii. 
p.  484. 

"  David  Davis,  contractor,  Gilvachvargoed  colliery,  Glamorgan- 
shire :  1 1  am  of  opinion  that  miners  are  sooner  disabled  and  off 
work  than  other  mechanics,  for  they  suffer  from  shortness  of 
breath  long  before*  they  are  off  work.  Shortness  of  breath  may 
be  said  to  commence  from  forty  to  fifty  years  of  age.' — Franks, 
Evidence,  No.  178 ;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  533,  1.  32. 

"Richard  Andrews,  overseer,  Llancyach,  Glamorganshire: 
'  The  miners  about  here  are  very  subject  to  asthmatic  complaints/ 
Ibid.  No.  152  ;  p.  529, 1.  7. 

"Mr.  Frederick  Evans,  clerk  and  accountant  for  the  Dowlais 
Collieries,  Monmouthshire :  '  Asthma  is  a  prevalent  disease 


OF   ENGLAND.  67 

among  colliers/ — R.  W.  Jones,  Evidence,  No.  121 ;  App.  pt.  ii. 
p.  646,  1.  48. 

"  Mr.  David  Musbet,  Forest  of  Dean  :  '  The  men  generally  be- 
come asthmatic  from  fifty  to  fifty-five  years  of  age/ —  Waring,  Evi- 
dence, No.  37 ;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  25, 1.  3. 

"  '  Asthmatic  and  other  bronchial  affections  are  common  among 
the  older  colliers  and  miners/ —  Waring,  Report,  a.  72 ;  App. 
pt.  ii.  p.  6. 

"Mr.  W.  Brice,  clerk,  Coal  Barton  and  Yobster  Collieries, 
North  Somersetshire :  *  The  work  requires  the  full  vigour  of  a 
man,  and  they  are  apt,  at  this  place,  to  get  asthmatical  from  the  gas 
and  foul  air/ — Stewart,  Evidence,  No.  7 ;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  50,  1.  49. 

"  James  Beacham,  coal-breaker,  Writhlirigton,  near  Radstock : 
« Many  of  the  miners  suffer  from  "  tight  breath."  '—Ibid.  No.  32 ; 
p.  56,  1.  31. 

Of  that  disease  which  is  peculiar  to  colliers,,  called 
"black  spittle,"  much  evidence  is  given  by  many  medi- 
cal witnesses  and  others  : — 

"  Mr.  Cooper,  surgeon,  of  Bilston,  gives  the  following  account 
of  this  malady  when  it  appears  in  its  mildest  form :  *  Frequently 
it  occurs  that  colliers  appear  at  the  offices  of  medical  men,  com- 
plaining of  symptoms  of  general  debility,  which  appear  to  arise 
from  inhalation  of  certain  gases  in  the  mines,  (probably  an  excess 
of  carbonic.)  These  patients  present  a  pallid  appearance,  are 
affected  with  headache,  (without  febrile  symptoms,)  and  constric- 
tion of  the  chest ;  to  which  may  be  added  dark  bronchial  expec- 
toration and  deficient  appetite.  Gentle  aperients,  mild  sto- 
machics, and  rest  from  labour  above  ground,  restore  them  in' a 
week  or  so,  and  they  are  perhaps  visited  at  intervals  with  a 
relapse,  if  the  state  of  the  atmosphere  or  the  ill  ventilation  of  the 
mine  favour  the  development  of  deleterious  gas/ — Mitchell,  Evi- 
dence, No.  3 ;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  62,  1.  48." 

In  other  districts  this  disease  assumes  a  much  more 
formidable  character : — 


68  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

x 
"  Dr.  Thompson,  of  Edinburgh,  states  that,  '  The  workmen  in 

coal  mines  occasionally  die  of  an  affection  of  the  lungs,  accompa- 
nied with  the  expectoration  of  a  large  quantity  of  matter  of  a 
deep  black  colour,  this  kind  of  expectoration  continuing  long 
after  they  have,  from  choice  or  illness,  abandoned  their  subter- 
ranean employment;  and  the  lungs  of  such  persons  are  found,  on 
examination  after  death,  to  be  most  deeply  impregnated  with 
black  matter.  This  black  deposition  may  occur  to  a  very  con- 
siderable extent  in  the  lungs  of  workers  in  coal-mines,  without 
being  accompanied  with  any  black  expectoration,  or  any  other 
phenomena  of  active  disease,  and  may  come  to  light  only  after 
death  has  been  occasioned' by  causes  of  a  different  nature,  as  by 
external  injuries/ — Franks,  Appendix  A,  No.  1 ;  App.  pt.  i.  p. 
409. 

"  Dr.  S.  Scott  Alison :  '  Spurious  melanosis,  or  "  black  spit"  of 
colliers,  is  a  disease  of  pretty  frequent  occurrence  among  the 
older  colliers,  and  among  those  men  who  have  been  employed  in 
cutting  and  blasting  stone  dykes  in  the  collieries.  The  symptoms 
are  emaciation  of  the  whole  body,  constant  shortness  and  quick- 
ness of  breath,  occasional  stitches  in  the  sides,  quick  pulse, 
usually  upward  of  one  hundred  in  the  minute,  hacking  cough 
day  and  night,  attended  by  a  copious  expectoration,  for  the  most 
part  perfectly  black,  and  very  much  the  same  as  thick  blacking 
in  colour  and  consistence,  but  occasionally  yellowish  and  mucous, 
or  white  and  frothy ;  respiration  is  cavernous  in  some  parts,  and 
dull  in  others ;  a  wheezing  noise  is  heard  in  the  bronchial  pas- 
sages, from  the  presence  of  an  inordinate  quantity  of  fluid ;  the 
muscles  of  respiration  become  very  prominent,  the  neck  is  short- 
ened, the  chest  being  drawn  up,  the  nostrils  are  dilated,  and  the 
countenance  is  of  an  anxious  aspect.  The  strength  gradually 
wasting,  the  collier,  who  has  hitherto  continued  at  his  employ- 
ment, finds  that  he  is  unable  to  work  six  days  in  the  week,  and 
goes  under  ground  perhaps  only  two  or  three  days  in  that  time ; 
in  the  course  of  time,  he  finds  an  occasional  half-day's  employ- 
ment as  much  as  he  can  manage,  and  when  only  a  few  weeks'  or 
months'  journey  from  the  grave,  ultimately  takes  a  final  leave  of 
his  labour.  This  disease  is  never  cured,  and  if  the  unhappy 


OF  ENGLAND.  69 

victim  of  an  unwholesome  occupation  is  not  hurried  off  by  some 
more  acute  disease,  or  by  violence,  it  invariably  ends  in  the 
death  of  the  sufferer.  Several  colliers  have  died  of  this  disease 
under  my  care/ — Ibid.  Appendix  A,  No.  2 ;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  415, 
416. 

"  Dr.  Makellar,  Pencaitland,  East  Lothian :  '  The  most  serious 
and  fatal  disease  which  I  have  been  called  to  treat,  connected 
with  colliers,  is  a  carbonaceous  infiltration  into  the  substance  of 
the  lungs.  It  is  a  disease  which  has  long  been  overlooked,  on 
account  of  the  unwillingness  which  formerly  existed  among  that 
class  of  people  to  allow  examination  of  the  body  after  death  ;  but 
of  late  such  a  prejudice  has  in  a  great  measure  been  removed. 
From  the  nature  of  Pencaitland  coal-works,  the  seams  of  coal 
being  thin  when  compared  with  other  coal-pits,  mining  operations 
are  carried  on  with  difficulty,  and,  in  such  a  situation,  there  is 
a  deficiency  in  the  supply  of  atmospheric  gas,  thereby  causing 
difficulty  in  breathing,  and,  consequently,  the  inhalation  of  the 
carbon  which  the  lungs  in  exhalation  throw  off,  and  also  any 
carbonaceous  substance  floating  in  this  impure  atmosphere.  I 
consider  the  pulmonary  diseases  of  coal-miners  to  be  excited 
chiefly  by  two  causes,  viz.  first,  by  running  stone-mines  with 
the  use  of  gunpowder;  and,  secondly,  coal-mining  in  an  atmo- 
sphere charged  with  lamp-smoke  and  the  carbon  exhaled  from 
the  lungs.  All  who  are  engaged  at  coal-pits  here,  are  either  em- 
ployed as  coal  or  stone  miners  ;  and  the  peculiar  disease  to  which 
both  parties  are  liable  varies  considerably  according  to  the  em- 
ployment/— Ibid.  Appendix  A,  No.  3,  p.  422.  See  also  witnesses 
Nos.  7,  44,  112,  144,  146.  For  a  full  account  of  this  disease,  see 
reports  of  Drs.  Alison,  Makellar,  and  Reid,  in  the  Appendix  to 
the  sub-commissioner's  report  for  the  East  of  Scotland." 

Dr.  Makellar  gives  the  following  remarkable  evidence 
as  to  the  efficacy  of  ventilation  in  obviating  the  produc- 
tion of  this  disease  : — 

"  The  only  effectual  remedy  for  this  disease  is  a  free  admission 
of  pure  air,  and  to  be  so  applied  as  to  remove  the  confined  smoke, 


70  THE  WHITE  SLAVES 

both  as  to  stone-mining  and  coal-mining,  and  also  the  introduction 
of  some  other  mode  of  lighting  such  pits  than  by  oil.  I  know 
many  coal-pits  where  there  is  no  black-spit,  nor  was  it  ever  known, 
and,  on  examination,  I  find  that  there  is  and  ever  has  been  in  them 
a  free  circulation  of  air.  For  example,  the  Penstone  coal-works, 
which  join  Pencaitland,  has  ever  been  free  of  this  disease ;  but 
many  of  the  Penstone  colliers,  on  coming  to  work  at  Pencaitland 
pit,  have  been  seized  with,  and  died  of,  this  disease.  Penstone 
has  always  good  air,  while  it  is  quite  the  contrary  at  Pencaitland/ 
—Ibid.  Appendix  A,  No.  3 ;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  422." 

Other  diseases,  produced  by  employment  in  coal- 
mines, less  fatal,  but  scarcely  less  painful,  are  rheuma- 
tism and  inflammation  of  the  joints. 

Mr.  William  Kartell  Baylis  states  that  working  in 
the  cold  and  wet  often  brings  on  rheumatism.  "  More  suf- 
fer from  this  than  from  any  other  complaint."*  Asthma 
and  rheumatism,  which  are  so  prevalent  in  other  dis- 
tricts, are  very  rare  in  Warwickshire  and  Leicester- 
shire, f  But,  in  Derbyshire,  "rheumatism  is  very 
general.  I  believe  you  will  scarcely  meet  a  collier, 
and  ask  him  what  he  thinks  of  the  weather,  but  he  will 
in  reply  say,  <  Why,  his  back  or  shoulders  have  or  have 
not  pained  him  as  much  as  usual.'  "J 

George  Tweddell,  surgeon,  Hough ton-le-Spring,  South 
Durham,  says,  in  answer  to  the  question — Are  miners 
much  subject  to  rheumatism? — "  Not  particularly  so. 
Our  mines  are  dry ;  but  there  is  one  mine  which  is  wet, 
where  the  men  often  complain  of  rheumatism. "§ 

*  Mitchell,  Evidence,  No.  7;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  65,  1.  31. 

|  Ibid,  in  loco.  J  Fellows,  Report,  s.  58 ;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  256. 

g  Mitchell,  Evidence,  No.  99  j  App.  pt.  i.  p.  155,  1.  8. 


OF  ENGLAND.  71 

Similar  evidence  is  given  by  the  medical  and  other 
•witnesses  in  all  other  districts.  "Wherever  the  minss 
are  not  properly  drained,  and  are,  therefore,  wet  and 
cold,  the  work-people  are  invariably  afflicted  with  rheu- 
matism, and  with  painful  diseases  of  the  glands. 

The  sub-commissioner  for  the  Forest  of  Dean  gives 
the  following  account  of  a  painful  disease  of  the  joints 
common  in  that  district : —  , 

"  *  The  men  employed  in  cutting  down  the  coal  are  subject  to 
inflammation  of  the  bursce,  both  in  the  knees  and  elbows,  from 
the  constant  pressure  and  friction  on  these  joints  in  their  working 
postures.  When  the  seams  are  several  feet  thick,  they  begin  by 
kneeling  and  cutting  away  the  exterior  portion  of  the  base.  They 
proceed  undermining  till  they  are  obliged  to  lie  down  on  their 
sides,  in  order  to  work  beneath  the  mass  as  far  as  the  arm  can 
urge  the  pick,  for  the  purpose  of  bringing  down  a  good  head  of 
coal.  In  this  last  posture  the  elbow  forms  a  pivot,  resting  on  the 
ground,  on  which  the  arm  of  the  workman  oscillates  as  he  plies 
his  sharp  pick.  It  is  easy  to  comprehend  how  this  action,  com- 
bined with  the  pressure,  should  affect  the  delicate  cellular  mem- 
brane of  this  joint,  and  bring  on  the  disease  indicated.  The  thin 
seams  of  coal  are  necessarily  altogether  worked  in  a  horizontal 
posture/ — Waring,  Report,  s.  63-66;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  5,  6. 

"  Twenty  boys  at  the  "Walker  Colliery :  l  The  twenty  witnesses, 
when  examined  collectively,  say,  that  the  way  is  so  very  dirty, 
and  the  pit  so  warm,  that  the  lads  often  get  tired  very  soon.7- — 
Lei/child,  Evidence,  No.  291 ;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  627,  1.  661. 

"  Nineteen  boys  examined  together,  of  various  ages,  of  whom 
the  spokesman  was  William  Holt,  seventeen  years  old,  putter : 
'  The  bad  air  when  they  were  whiles  working  in  the  broken, 
makes  them  sick.  Has  felt  weak  like  in  his  legs  at  those  times. 
Was  weary  like.  Has  gone  on  working,  but  very  slowly.  Many 
a  one  has  had  to  come  home  before  having  a  fair  start,  from 
bad  air  and  hard  work.  Hours  are  too  long.  Would  sooner 
work  less  hours  and  get  less  money/ — Ibid.  No.  300 ;  p.  629, 1. 1. 


72  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

"  Twenty-three  witnesses  assembled  state :  '  That  their  work  is 
too  hard  for  them,  and  they  feel  sore  tired ;  that  some  of  them 
constantly  throw  up  their  meat  from  their  stomachs ;  that  their 
heads  often  work,  (ache ;)  the  back  sometimes  ;  and  the  legs  feel 
weak/— Ibid.  No.  354 ;  p.  639,  1.  18. 

"  John  Wilkinson,  aged  thirteen,  Piercy  Main  Colliery :  '  Was 
in  for  a  double  shift  about  five  weeks  ago,  and  fell  asleep  about 
one  o'clock  p.  M.,  as  he  was  going  to  lift  the  limmers  off  to  join 
the  rolleys  together,  and  got  himself  lamed  by  the  horse  turning 
about  and  jamming  one  of  his  fingers.  Split  his  finger.  Was 
off  a  week  from  this  accident.  Sometimes  feels  sick  down  in  the 
pit ;  felt  so  once  or  twice  last  fortnight.  Whiles  his  head  works, 
(aches,)  and  he  has  pains  in  his  legs,  as  if  they  were  weak. 
Feels  pains  in  his  knees.  Thinks  the  work  is  hard  for  foals, 
more  so  than  for  others/— Ibid.  No.  60 ;  p.  579,  1.  22. 

"  John  Middlemas :  '  Sometimes,  but  very  rarely,  they  work 
double  shift ;  that  is,  they  go  down  at  four  o'clock  A.  M.  and  do  not 
come  up  until  four  o'clock  p.  M.  in  the  day  after  that,  thus  stopping 
down  thirty-six  hours,  without  coming  up,  sometimes  ;  and  some- 
times they  come  up  for  half  an  hour,  and  then  go  down  again. 
Another  worked  for  twenty-four  hours  last  week,  and  never  camo 
up  at  all.  Another  has  stopped  down  thirty-six  hours,  without 
coming  up  at  all,  twice  during  the  last  year.  When  working  this 
double  shift  they  go  to  bed  directly  they  come  home/ — Ibid.  No. 
98  ;  p.  588,  1.  42. 

"  Michael  Turner,  helper-up,  aged  fourteen  and  a  half,  Gos- 
forth  Colliery :  *  Mostly  he  puts  up  hill  the  full  corves.  Many 
times  the  skin  is  rubbed  off  his  back  and  off  his  feet.  His  head 
works  (aches)  very  often,  almost  every  week.  His  legs  work  so 
sometimes  that  he  can  hardly  trail  them.  Is  at  hard  work  now, 
shoving  rolleys  and  hoisting  the  crane  ;  the  former  is  the  hardest 
work.  His  back  works  very  often,  so  that  he  has  sometimes 
to  sit  down  for  half  a  minute  or  so/ — Ibid.  No.  145 ;  p.  598, 
1.58. 

"George  Short,  aged  nearly  sixteen:  *  Hoists  a  crane.  His 
bead  works  very  often,  and  he  feels  sickish  sometimes,  and 
drowsy  sometimes,  especially  if  he  sits  down.  Has  always  been 


OF   ENGLAND.  73 

drowsy  since  he  went  there.  Twice  he  has  worked  three  shifts 
following,  of  twelve  hours  each  sliift ;  never  came  up  at  all  during 
the  thirty-six  hours  ;  was  sleepy,  but  had  no  time  to  sleep.  Has 
many  times  worked  double  shift  of  nineteen  hours,  and  he  does 
this  now  nearly  every  pay  Friday  night.  A  vast  of  boys  work  in 
this  shift,  ten  or  eleven,  or  sometimes  more.  The  boys  are  very 
tired  and  sleepy.'— Ibid.  No.  191 ;  p.  606,  1.  41. 

"John  Maffin,  sixteen  years  old,  putter,  Gosforth  Colliery: 
*  Was  strong  before  he  went  down  pits,  but  is  not  so  now,  from 
being  overhard  wrought,  and  among  bad  air/ — Ibid.  No.  141 ; 
p.  598,  1.  2. 

"Robert  Hall,  seventeen  years  old,  half  marrow,  Felling  Col- 
liery :  *  The  work  of  putting  makes  his  arms  weak,  and  his  legs 
work  all  the  day ;  makes  his  back  work.  Is  putting  to  the  dip 
now  in  a  heavy  place.  Each  one  takes  his  turn  to  use  the 
"  soams,"  (the  drawing-straps ;)  one  pulls  with  them,  and  the 
other  shoves  behind.  Both  are  equally  hard.  If  it  is  a  very 
heavy  place  there  are  helpers-up,  but  not  so  many  as  they  want. 
Has  known  one  sore  strained  by  putting/ 

"John  Peel,  aged  thirteen:  'Is  now  off  from  this.  Is  healthy 
in  general,  but  is  now"  and  then  off  from  this  work/ — Ibid.  No. 
325  ;  p.  634,  1.  11. 

"  Michael  Richardson,  fifteen  years  old,  putter,  St.  Lawrence 
Main  Colliery  :  '  About  three  quarters  of  a  year  since  he  wrought 
double  shift  every  other  night ;  or,  rather,  he  worked  three  times 
in  eleven  days  for  thirty-six  hours  at  a  time,  without  coming  up 
the  pit.  About  sin  months  ago  he  worked  three  shifts  following, 
of  twelve  hours  each  shift,  and  never' stopped  work  more  than  a 
few  minutes  now  and  then,  or  came  up  the  pit  till  he  was  done. 
There  was  now  and  then  some  night-work  to  do,  and  the  over-man 
asked  him  to  stop,  and  he  could  not  say  no,  or  else  he  (the  over- 
man) would  have  frowned  on  him,  and  stopped  him,  perhaps,  of 
some  helpers-up.  Thinks  the  hours  for  lads  ought  to  be  short- 
ened, and  does  not  know  whether  it  would  not  be  better  even  if 
their  wages  were  less/— Ibid.  No.  270  ;  p.  623,  1.  32. 

"  James  Glass,  eighteen  years  old,  putter,  Walbottle :  '  Puts  a 
tram  by  himself.  Has  no  helDer-upi  and  no  assistance.  Mostly 


74  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

puts  a  full  tram  up.  Is  putting  from  a  distance  now.  Mostly 
the  trams  are  put  up  by  one  person.  "Was  off  work  the  week 
before  last  three  days,  by  being  sick.  Was  then  putting  in  the 
night  shift,  and  had  to  go  home  and  give  over.  Could  not  work. 
His  head  works  nearly  every  day.  He  is  always  hitting  his  head 
against  stone  roofs.  His  arms  work  very  often.  Has  to  stoop 
a  good  deal.  The  weight  of  his  body  lies  upon  his  arms  when  he 
is  putting.  The  skin  is  rubbed  off  his  back  very  often.7 — Ibid. 
No.  244;  p.  619,  1.27. 

"  Mr.  James  Anderson,  a  Home  Missionary,  residing  inEasing- 
ton  Lane,  Hetton-le-Hole,  in  reply  to  queries  proposed,  handed  in 
the  following  written  evidence :  *  The  boys  go  too  soon  to  work : 
I  have  seen  boys  at  work  not  six  years  of  age,  and  though  their 
work  is  not  hard,  still  they  have  long  hours,  so  that  when  they 
come  home  they  are  quite  spent.  I  have  often  seen  them  lying 
on  the  floor,  fast  asleep.  Then  they  often  fall  asleep  in  the  pit, 
and  have  been  killed.  Not  long  ago  a  boy  fell  asleep,  lay  down 
on  the  way,  and  the  wagons  killed  him.  Another  boy  was  killed ; 
it  was  supposed  he  had  fallen  asleep  when  driving  his  wagon, 
and  fallen  off,  and  was  killed. '—Ibid.  No.  446;  p.  655,  1.  62." 

The  children  employed  in  the  mines  and  collieries 
are  distinguished  by  a  remarkable  muscular  develop- 
ment, which,  however,  is  unhealthy,  as  it  is  premature, 
obtained  at  the  expense  of  other  parts  of  the  body,  and 
of  but  short  duration.  The  muscles  of  the  arms  and 
the  back  become  very  large  and  full. 

With  the  great  muscular  development,  there  is  com- 
monly a  proportionate  diminution  of  stature.  All 
classes  of  witnesses  state  that  colliers,  as  a  body — chil- 
dren, young  persons,  and  adults — are  stunted  in  growth. 
There  are  only  two  exceptions  to  this  in  Great  Britain, 
namely,  Warwickshire  and  Leicestershire.  It  is  to  be 
inferred  from  the  statements  of  the  sub-commissioner 


OF  ENGLAND.  75 

for  Ireland,  that  that  country  forms  a  third  exception 
for  the  United  Kingdom.  Of  the  uniformity  of  the 
statements  as  to  the  small  stature  and  the  stunted 
growth  of  the  colliers  in  all  other  districts,  the  follow- 
ing may  be  regarded  as  examples : — 

In  Shropshire,  the  miners,  as  a  body,  are  of  small 
stature;  this  is  abundantly  obvious  even  to  a  casual 
observer,  and  there  are  many  instances  of  men  never 
exceeding  the  size  of  boys.*  Andrew  Blake,  M.  D., 
states  of  the  colliers  in  Derbyshire,  that  he  has  observed 
that  many  of  them  are  not  so  tall  as  their  neighbours 
in  other  employments ;  this,  in  a  degree,  he  considers  is 
owing  to  their  being  worked  so  young.f  In  the  West 
Riding  of  Yorkshire,  also,  there  is  in  stature  an  "  ap- 
preciable difference  in  colliers'  children,  manifest  at  all 
ages  after  they  have  been  three  years  constantly  in  the 
pits ;  there  is  little  malformation,  but,  as  Mr.  Eliss,  a 
surgeon  constantly  attending  them,  admits,  they  are 
somewhat  stunted  in  growth  and  expanded  in  width.' 'J 

"  Mr.  Henry  Hemmingway,  surgeon,  Dewsbury :  '  I  am  quite 
sure  that  the  rule  is  that  the  children  in  coal-pits  are  of  a  lower 
stature  than  others.7 — Symons,  Evidence,  No.  221 ;  App.  pt.  i.  p. 
282,  1.  47. 

"  Mr.  Thomas  Rayner,  surgeon,  Bristall :  '  I  account  for  the 
stunted  growth  from  the  stooping  position,  which  makes  them 
grow  laterally,  and  prevents  the  cartilaginous  substances  from 
expanding/— Ibid.  No.  268,  p.  292,  1.  52. 

*  Dr.  Mitchell,  Report,  s.  314 ;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  39. 

f  Fellows,  Evidence,  No.  10 ;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  266,  1.  10. 

J  Symons,  Report,  s.  200;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  193. 


76  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

"  Henry  Moorhouse,  surgeon,  Huddersfield :  *I  may  state,  from 
my  own  personal  examination  of  many  of  them,  that  they  are 
much  less  in  stature,  in  proportion  to  their  ages,  than  those  work- 
ing in  mills/— Ibid.  No.  273,  p.  293,  1.  49. 

"Mr.  Jos.  Ellison,  Bristall :  'The  employment  of  children  de- 
cidedly stunts  their  growth/— Ibid.  No.  249,  p.  288,  1.  8." 

Mr.  Symons,  in  Appendix  to  p.  212  of  his  Report, 
has  given  in  detail  the  names,  ages,  and  measurement, 
both  in  stature  and  in  girth  of  breast,  of  a  great  num- 
ber of  farm  and  of  colliery  children  of  both  ages  re- 
spectively. By  taking  the  first  ten  collier  boys,  and 
the  first  ten  farm  boys,  of  ages  between  twelve  and 
fourteen,  we  find  that  the  former  measured  in  the  ag- 
gregate forty-four  feet  six  inches  in  height,  and  two 
hundred  and  seventy-four  and  a  half  inches  around  the 
breast ;  while  the  farm  boys  measured  forty-seven  feet 
in  height,  and  two  hundred  and  seventy-two  inches 
round  the  breast.  By  taking  the  ten  first  collier  girls 
and  farm  girls,  respectively  between  the  ages  of  four- 
teen and  seventeen,  we  find  that  the  ten  collier  girls 
measured  forty-six  feet  four  inches  in  height,  and  two 
hundred  and  ninety-three  and  a  half  inches  round  the 
breast;  while  the  ten  farm  girls  measured  fifty  feet 
five  inches  in  height,  and  two  hundred  and  ninety-seven 
inches  round  the  breast ;  so  that  in  the  girls  there  is  a 
difference  in  the  height  of  those  employed  on  farms, 
compared  with  those  employed  in  collieries,  of  eight 
and  a  half  per  cent,  in  favour  of  the  former;  while 
between  the  colliery  and  farm  boys  of  a  somewhat 


OF  ENGLAND.  77 

younger  age,  and  before  any  long  period  had  been  spent 
in  the  collieries,  the  difference  appears  to  be  five  and  a 
half  per  cent,  in  favour  of  the  farm  children. 

In  like  manner,  of  sixty  children  employed  as  hur- 
riers  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Halifax,  at  the  average 
ages  of  ten  years  and  nine  months,  Mr.  Scriven  states 
that  the  average  measurement  in  height  was  three  feet 
eleven  inches  and  three-tenths,  and,  in  circumference, 
three  feet  two  inches  ;  while  of  fifty-one  children  of  tho 
same  age  employed  on  farms,  the  measurement  in  height 
was  four  feet  three  inches,  the  circumference  being  the 
same  in  both,  namely,  two  feet  three  inches.  In  like 
manner,  of  fifty  young  persons  of  the  average  of  four- 
teen years  and  eleven  months,  the  measurement  in 
height  was  four  feet  five  inches,  and  in  circumference 
two  feet  three  inches;  while  of  forty-nine  young 
persons  employed  on  farms,  of  the  average  of  fifteen 
years  and  six  months,  the  measurement  in  height  was 
four  feet  ten  inches  and  eight-elevenths,  and,  in  cir- 
cumference, two  feet  three  inches,  being  a  difference  of 
nearly  six  inches  in  height  in  favour  of  the  agricultural 
labourers. 

In  the  district  of  Bradford  and  Leeds,  there  is  "  in 
stature  an  appreciable  difference,  from  about  the  age 
at  which  children  begin  to  work,  between  children  em- 
ployed in  mines  and  children  of  the  same  age  and 
station  in  the  neighbourhood  not  so  employed;  and  this 


78  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

shortness  of  stature  is  generally,  though  to  a  less  de- 
gree, visible  in  the  adult."* 

In  Lancashire,  the  sub-commissioner  reports  that — 
« It  appeared  to  him  that  the  average  of  the  colliers 
are  considerably  shorter  in  stature  than  the  agricultural 
labourers. "f  The  evidence  collected  by  the  other 
gentlemen  in  this  district  is  to  the  same  effect.  Mr. 
Pearson,  surgeon  to  the  dispensary,  Wigan,  states, 
with  regard  to  the  physical  condition  of  the  children  and 
young  persons  employed  in  coal-mining,  as  compared 
•with  that  of  children  in  other  employments,  that  they 
are  smaller  and  have  a  stunted  appearance,  which  he 
attributes  to  their  being  employed  too  early  in  life.f 
And  Mr.  Richard  Ashton,  relieving-officer  of  the  Black- 
burn district,  describes  the  colliers  as  "a  low  race,  and 
their  appearance  is  rather  decrepit."§  Though  some 
remarkable  exceptions  have  been  seen  in  the  counties 
of  Warwick  and  Leicester,  the  colliers,  as  a  race  of 
men,  in  some  districts,  and  in  Durham  among  the  rest, 
are  not  of  large  stature.  ||  George  Canney,  medical 


*  Wood,  Report,  s.  36 ;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  H  7.  Also  Evidence,  Nos. 
60,  75,  76. 

f  Kennedy,  Report,  s.  296 ;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  188. 

J  Ibid,  s.304;  p.  188. 

g  Austin,  Evidence,  No.  1 ;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  811 ;  i.  12.  See  also 
the  remarks  by  Mr.  Fletcher  on  the  vicinity  of  Oldham,  App.  pt.  ii, 
6.  69,  p.  832. 

||  Mitchell,  Report,  s.  214 ;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  143. 


OF  ENGLAND.  79 

practitioner,  Bishop  Aukland,  states,  "that  they  are 
less  in  weight  and  bulk  than  the  generality  of  men."* 

Of  the  collier  boys  of  Durham  and  Northumberland, 
the  sub-commissioner  reports  that  an  inspection  of 
more  than  a  thousand  of  these  boys  convinced  him  that 
"as  a  class,  (with  many  individual  exceptions,)  their 
stature  must  be  considered  as  diminutive/  'f  Mr. 
Nicholas  Wood,  viewer  of  Killingworth,  &c.,  states 
"that  there  is  a  very  general  diminution  of  stature 
among  pit-men/'J  "  Mr.  Heath,  of  Newcastle,  surgeon 
to  Killingworth,  Gosforth,  and  Coxlodge  collieries, 
"thinks  the  confinement  of  children  for  twelve  hours 
in  a  pit  is  not  consistent  with  ordinary  health ;  the 
stature  is  rather  diminished,  and  there  is  an  absence  of 
colour;  they  are  shortened  in  stature."§  And  J. 
Brown,  M.  D.,  Sunderland,  states  "that  they  are 
generally  stunted  in  stature,  thin  and  swarthy." |j 

Of  the  collier  population  in  Cumberland,  it  is  stated 
that  "they  are  in  appearance  quite  as  stunted  in 
growth,  and  present  much  the  same  physical  phenomena 
as  those  of  Yorkshire,  comparing,  of  course,  those  fol- 
lowing similar  branches  of  the  work/'^"  Thomas 


*  Mitchell,  Evidence,  No.  97 ;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  154,  1.  19. 

f  Leifchild,  Report,  g.  72 ;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  252. 

J  Leifchild,  Evidence,  No.  97 ;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  587,  1.  39, 

?  Ibid.  No.  497,  p.  665,  1.  7. 

||  Ibid.  No.  504,  p.  672, 1.  22. 

f  Symons,  Report,  s.  22;  App.  pt  i.  p.  802. 


80  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

Mitchell,  surgeon,  Whitehaven,  says,  "their  stature 
is  partly  decreased/'* 

Of  the  deteriorated  physical  condition  of  the  collier 
population  in  the  East  of  Scotland,  as  shown,  among 
other  indications,  .by  diminished  stature,  Dr.  S.  Scott 
Alison  states  that  "many  of  the  infants  in  a  collier 
community  are  thin,  skinny,  and  wasted,  and  indicate, 
by  their  contracted  features  and  sickly,  dirty- white  or 
faint-yellowish  aspect,  their  early  participation  in  a  de- 
teriorated physical  condition.  From  the  age  of  infancy 
up  to  the  seventh  or  eighth  year,  much  sickliness  and 
general  imperfection  of  physical  development  is  ob- 
servable. The  physical  condition  of  the  boys  and  girls 
engaged  in  the  collieries  is  much  inferior  to  that  of 
children  of  the  same  age  engaged  in  farming  operations, 
in  most  other  trades,  or  who  remain  at  home  unem- 
ployed. The  children  are,  upon  the  whole,  prejudicially 
affected  to  a  material  extent  in  their  growth  and  deve- 
lopment. Many  of  them  are  short  for  their  years."f 

In  South  Wales,  "the  testimony  of  medical  gentle- 
men, and  of  managers  and  overseers  of  various  works, 
in  which  large  numbers  of  children  as  well  as  adults 
are  employed,  proves  that  the  physical  health  and 
strength  of  children  and  young  persons  is  deteriorated 
by  their  employment  at  the  early  ages  and  in  the  works 


*  Symons,  Evidence,  No.  312;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  305,  1.  59. 
f  Franks,  Report,  App.  A,  No.  2;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  410,  411. 


OF   ENGLAND.  81 

before  enumerated."*  Mr.  Jonathan  Isaacs,  agent  of 
the  Top  Hill  colliery  : — "  I  have  noticed  that  the  chil- 
dren of  miners,  who  are  sent  to  work,  do  not  grow  as 
they  ought  to  do ;  they  get  pale  in  their  looks,  are 
weak  in  their  limbs,  and  any  one  can  distinguish  a  col- 
lier's child  from  the  children  of  other  working  people. "*)" 
Mr.  P.  Kirkhouse,  oversman  to  the  Cyfarthfa  col- 
lieries and  ironstone  mines,  on  this  point  observes — 
"  The  infantine  ages  at  which  children  are  employed 
cranks  (stunts)  their  growth,  and  injures  their  constitu- 
tion. "J  John  Eussell,  surgeon  to  the  Dowlais  Iron 
Works: — "In  stature,  I  believe  a  difference  to  exist  in 
the  male  youth  from  twelve  to  sixteen,  employed  in  the 
mines  and  collieries,  compared  with  those  engaged  in 
other  works,  the  former  being  somewhat  stunted ;  and 
this  difference  (under  some  form  or  other)  seems  still 
perceptible  in  the  adult  miners  and  colliers. "§ 

A  crippled  gait,  often  connected  with  positive  de- 
formity, is  one  of  the  frequent  results  of  slaving  in  the 
mines. 

In  Derbyshire,  the  children  who  have  worked  in  the 
collieries  from  a  very  early  age  are  stated  to  be  bow- 
legged.y 


*  Franks,  Report,  s.  85  ;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  485. 

f  Franks,  Evidence,  No.  144  ;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  582,  1.  4. 

J  Ibid.  No.  2,  p.  503,  1.  21. 

g  R.  W.  Jones,  Evidence,  No.  102  ;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  64,  1.  28. 

|j  Fellows,  Report,  s.  45 ;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  255. 


82  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

In  the  West  Riding  of  Yorkshire,  «  after  they  are 
turned  forty-five  or  fifty,  they  walk  home  from  their 
work  almost  like  cripples ;  stiffly  stalking  along,  often 
leaning  on  sticks,  bearing  the  visible  evidences  in  their 
frame  and  gait  of  over-strained  muscles  and  over-taxed 
strength.  Where  the  lowness  of  the  gates  induces  a 
very  bent  posture,  I  have  observed  an  inward  curvature 
of  the  spine ;  and  chicken-breasted  children  are  very 
common  among  those  who  work  in  low,  thin  coal- 
mines."* Mr.  Uriah  Bradbury,  surgeon,  Mirfield: — 
"  Their  knees  never  stand  straight,  like  other  peo- 
ple's.'^ Mr.  Henry  Hemmingway,  surgeon,  Dews- 
bury  : — « May  be  distinguished  among  crowds  of 
people,  by  the  bending  of  the  spinal  column. "J  Mr. 
William  Sharp,  surgeon,  Bradford:  —  "There  are 
occasionally  cases  of  deformity. "§ 

In  Lancashire  district,  John  Bagley,  about  thirty- 
nine  years  of  age,  collier,  Mrs.  Lancaster's,  Patricroft, 
states,  that  "  the  women  drawing  in  the  pits  are  gene- 
rally crooked.  Can  tell  any  woman  who  has  been  in 
the  pits.  They  are  rarely,  if  ever,  so  straight  as  other 
women  who  stop  above  ground. "||  Mr.  William  Gaulter, 
surgeon,  of  Over  Darwen,  says—"  Has  practised  as  a 


*  Symons,  Report,  s.  110;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  181. 

f  Symons,  Evidence,  No.  199 ;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  279,  1.  3. 

J  Ibid.  No.  21 ;  p.  282,  1.  246. 

g  Wood,  Evidence,  No.  60 ;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  h  27, 1.  46. 

||  Kennedy,  Evidence,  No.  30  ;  App.  pt.  ii,  p.  218, 1.  6. 


OF   ENGLAND.  83 

surgeon  twenty-four  years  in  this  neighbourhood. 
Those  who  work  in  collieries  at  an  early  age,  when 
they  arrive  at  maturity  are  not  generally  so  robust  as 
those  who  work  elsewhere.  They  are  frequently 
crooked,  (not  distorted,)  bow-legged,  and  stooping/'* 
Betty  Duxberry,  whose  children  work  in  the  pits,  as- 
serts that  "  colliers  are  all  crooked  and  short-legged, 
not  like  other  men  who  work  above  ground ;  but  they 
were  always  colliers,  and  always  will  be.  This  young 
boy  turns  his  feet  out  and  his  knees  together ;  drawing 
puts  them  out  of  shape/'f 

Evidence  collected  in  Durham  and  Northumberland, 
shows  that  the  underground  labour  produces  similar 
effects  in  that  district. 

Mr.  Nicholas  Wood,  viewer  of  Killingworth,  Hetton, 
and  other  collieries : — "  The  children  are  perhaps  a 
little  ill-formed,  and  the  majority  of  them  pale,  and  not 
robust.  Men  working  in  low  seams  are  bent  double 
and  bow-legged  very  often. "J  J.  Brown,  M.  D.  and 
J.  P.,  Sunderland  : — "  They  labour  more  frequently 
than  other  classes  of  the  community  under  deformity 
of  the  lower  limbs,  especially  that  variety  of  it  de- 
scribed as  being  <  in-kneed.'  This  I  should  ascribe  to 
yielding  of  the  ligaments,  owing  to  long  standing  in  the 


*  Austin,  Evidence,  No.  7;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  812.  1,  160. 

f  Ibid.  No.  17 ;  p.  815,  1.  53. 

J  Leifchild,  Evidence,  No.  97;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  587, 1.  32. 


84  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

mines  in  a  constrained  and  awkward  position."*  Mr. 
Thomas  Greenshaw,  surgeon.  Walker  colliery : — "  Their 
persons  are  apt  to  be  somewhat  curved  and  cramped- 
As  they  advance  in  life,  their  knees  and  back  fre- 
quently exhibit  a  curved  appearance,  from  constant 
bending  at  their  work."f  Mr.  W.  Morrison,  surgeon 
of  Pelaw  House,  Chesterle  street,  Countess  of  Dur- 
ham's collieries : — "  The  <  outward  man'  distinguishes  a 
pit-man  from  any  other  operative.  His  stature  is 
diminished,  his  figure  disproportionate  and  misshapen  ; 
his  legs  being  much  bowed  ;  his  chest  protruding,  (the 
thoracic  region  being  unequally  developed.)  His  coun- 
tenance is  not  less  striking  than  his  figure — his  cheeks 
being  generally  hollow,  his  brow  overhanging,  his  cheek- 
bones high,  his  forehead  low  and  retreating.  Nor  is 
his  appearance  healthful — his  habit  is  tainted  with 
scrofula.  I  have  seen  agricultural  labourers,  black- 
smiths, carpenters,  and  even  those  among  the  wan  and 
distressed-looking  weavers  of  Nottinghamshire,  to 
whom  the  term  < jolly'  might  not  be  inaptly  applied; 
but  I  never  saw  a  'jolly-looking'  pit-man.  As  the  germ 
of  this  physical  degeneration  may  be  formed  in  the 
youthful  days  of  the  pit-man,  it  is  desirable  to  look  for 
its  cause. "J 


*  Leichfield,  Evidence,  No.  504;  p.  672,  1.  22. 
f  Ibid.  No.  498  ;  p.  665,  1.  50. 
J  Ibid.  No.  496;  p.  662,  1.  62. 


OF   ENGLAND.  85 

Ruptures,  rheumatism,  diseases  of  the  heart  and  of 
other  organs,  the  results  of  over-exertion  in  unhealthy 
places,  are  common  among  the  persons  employed  in  the 
mines,  as  many  intelligent  persons  testified  before  the 
commissioners. 

An  employment  often  pursued  under  circumstances 
"which  bring  with  them  so  many  and  such  formidable 
diseases,  must  prematurely  exhaust  the  strength  of  or- 
dinary constitutions ;  and  the  evidence  collected  in 
almost  all  the  districts  proves  that  too  often  the  collier 
is  a  disabled  man,  with  the  marks  of  old  age  upon  him, 
while  other  men  have  scarcely  passed  beyond  their 
prime. 

The  evidence  shows  that  in  South  Staffordshire  and 
Shropshire,  many  colliers  are  incapable  of  following 
their  occupation  after  they  are  forty  years  of  age ; 
others  continue  their  work  up  to  fifty,  which  is  stated 
by  several  witnesses  to  be  about  the  general  average. 
Mr.  Marcy,  clerk  to  the  Wellington  Union,  Salop, 
states,  that  "  at  about  forty  the  greater  part  of  the 
colliers  may  be  considered  as  disabled,  and  regular  old 
men — as  much  as  some  are  at  eighty."* 

Even  in  Warwickshire  and  Leicestershire,  in  which 
their  physical  condition  is  better  than  in  any  other  dis- 
tricts, Mr.  Michael  Parker,  ground  bailiff  of  the  Smith- 
son  collieries,  states  that  "  some  of  the  men  are 


*  Mitchell,  Evidence,  No.  46;  App*  pt  L  p.  81,  1.  47» 
B 


86  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

knocked  up  at  forty-five  and  fifty,  and  that  fifty  may 
be  the  average ;  which  early  exhaustion  of  the  physical 
strength  he  attributes  to  the  severe  labour  and  bad 
air."*  Mr.  Dalby,  surgeon  of  the  Union  of  Ashby-de- 
la-Zouch,  says — "  The  work  in  the  pit  is  very  labo- 
rious, and  some  are  unable  for  it  as  early  as  fifty, 
others  at  forty-five,  and  some  at  sixty;  I  should  say 
the  greater  part  at  forty-five."f  And  Mr.  Davenport, 
clerk  of  the  Union  of  Ashby-de-la-Zouch,  gives  a  higher 
average,  and  says  that  "a  collier  may  wear  from 
sixty-five  to  seventy,  while  an  agricultural  labourer 
may  wear  from  seventy  to  seventy-five. "J 

Of  Derbyshire  the  sub-commissioner  reports — "I 
have  not  perceived  that  look  of  premature  old  age  so 
general  amongst  colliers,  until  they  are  forty  years  of 
age,  excepting  in  the  loaders,  who  evidently  appear  so 
at  twenty-eight  or  thirty,  and  this  I  think  must  arise 
from  the  hardness  of  their  labour,  in  having  such  great 
weights  to  lift,  and  breathing  a  worse  atmosphere  than 
any  other  in  the  pit."§  Phoebe  Gilbert  states — «  The 
loaders  are,  as  the  saying  is,  <old  men  before  they 
are  young  ones.'  "||  Dr.  Blake  says — "  He  has  also 
noticed  that  when  a  collier  has  worked  from  a  child, 


*  Mitchell,  Evidence,  No.  77;  p.  113,  1.  6. 

f  Ibid.  No.  81;  p.  114,  1.  22. 

J  Ibid.  No.  82  ;  p.  114,  1.  61. 

g  Fellows,  Report,  s.  49 ;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  256. 

(I  Fellows,  Evidence,  No.  105  ;  p.  292,  1.  48. 


OF   ENGLAND.  87 

and  becomes  forty,  he  looks  much  older  than  those  of 
the  same  age  above  ground."* 

In  Yorkshire  "  the  collier  of  fifty  is  usually  an  aged 
man;  he  looks  overstrained  and  stiffened  by  labour."f 
"But  whilst  both  the  child  and  the  adult  miner  appear 
to  enjoy  excellent  health,  and  to  be  remarkably  free 
from  disease,  it  nevertheless  appears  that  their  labour, 
at  least  that  of  the  adult  miner,  is,  in  its  general  result, 
and  in  the  extent  to  which  it  is  pursued,  of  a  character 
more  severe  than  the  constitution  is  properly  able  to 
bear.  It  is  rare  that  a  collier  is  able  to  follow  his 
calling  beyond  the  age  of  from  forty  to  fifty,  and  then, 
unless  he  be  fortunate  enough  to  obtain  some  easier 
occupation,  he  sinks  into  a  state  of  helpless  depend- 
ence. Better  habits  with  regard  to  temperance  might 
diminish,  but  would  not  remove,  this  evil;  and  the 
existence  of  this  fact,  in  despite  of  the  general  healthi- 
ness of  the  collier  population,  gives  rise  to  the  ques- 
tion whether,  apart  from  all  considerations  of  mental 
and  moral  improvement,  a  fatal  mistake  is  not  com- 
mitted in  employing  children  of  tender  years  to  the 
extent  that  their  strength  will  bear,  instead  of  giving 
opportunity,  by  short  hours  of  labour,  for  the  fuller 
and  more  perfect  physical  development  which  would 


*  Fellows,  Evidence,  No.  10;  p.  262,  1.  8. 
f  Symons,  Report,  s.  209 ;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  193. 


88  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

better  fit  them  to  go  through  the  severe  labour  of  their 
after-life/'* 

In  the  coal-fields  of  North"  Durham  and  Northum- 
berland, Dr.  Elliott  states  "  that  premature  old  age  in 
appearance  is  common ;  men  of  thirty-five  or  forty 
years  may  often  be  taken  for  ten  years  older  than  they 
really  are."f  Mr.  Thomas  Greenhow,  surgeon.  Walker 
Colliery,  North  Durham,  says  "they  have  an  aged 
aspect  somewhat  early  in  life."J  Of  the  effect  of  em- 
ployment in  the  coal-mines  of  the  East  of  Scotland,  in 
producing  an  early  and  irreparable  deterioration  of  the 
physical  condition,  the  sub-commissioner  thus  reports : 
"  In  a  state  of  society  such  as  has  been  described,  the 
condition  of  the  children  may  be  easily  imagined,  and 
its  baneful  influence  on  the  health  cannot  well  be 
exaggerated;  and  I  am  informed  by  very  competent 
authorities,  that  six  months  labour  in  the  mines  is  suf- 
ficient to  effect  a  very  visible  change  in  the  physical 
condition  of  the  children  ;  and  indeed  it  is  scarcely 
possible  to  conceive  of  circumstances  more  calculated  to 
sow  the  seeds  of  future  disease,  and,  to  borrow  the  lan- 
guage of  the  Instructions,  to  prevent  the  organs  from 
being  fully  developed,  to  enfeeble  and  disorder  their 
functions,  and  to  subject  the  whole  system  to  injury 
which  cannot  be  repaired  at  any  subsequent  stage  of 

*  Wood,  Report,  s.  42 ;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  167. 

f  Leifcliild,  Evidence,  No.  499 ;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  668,  1.  44. 

i  Ibid.  No.  498  j  p.  665;  1.  52. 


OF   ENGLAND.  89 

life."*  In  the  West  of  Scotland,  Dr.  Thompson,  Ayr, 
says — "  A  collier  at  fifty  generally  has  the  appearance 
of  a  man  ten  years  older  than  he  is."f 

The  sub-committee  for  North  Wales  reports — "They 
fail-  in  health  and  strength  early  in  life.  At  thirty  a 
miner  begins  to  look  wan  and  emaciated,  and  so  does  a 
collier  at  forty;  while  the  farming  labourer  continues 
robust  and  hearty. "J  John  Jones,  relieving  officer  for 
the  Holy  well  district,  states — "  Though  the  children 
and  young  persons  employed  in  these  works  are  healthy, 
still  it  is  observable  that  they  soon  get  to  look  old,  and 
they  often  become  asthmatic  before  they  are  forty.  "§ 

In  the  Forest  of  Dean,  Mr.  Thomas  Marsh,  surgeon, 
states  that  "  colliers  usually  become  old  men  at  fifty 
to  fifty-five  years  of  age."||  In  North  Somersetshire, 
William  Brice,  clerk  and  manager,  says  « there  are 
very  few  at  work  who  are  above  fifty  years  of  age."Tf 

Early  death  is  the  natural  consequence  of  the  prema- 
ture decrepitude  thus  described  to  those  whom  ever-im- 
minent casualities  have  not  brought  to  the  grave  during 
the  years  of  their  vigour.  The  medical  evidence 
shows  that  even  in  South  Staffordshire  and  Shropshire, 


*  Franks,  Report,  s.  68 ;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  393. 
f  Tancred,  Evidence,  No.  34;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  371,  1.  58. 
J  H.  H.  Jones,  Report,  s.  83 ;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  375. 
\  H.  H.  Jones,  Evidence,  No.  96 ;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  407,  1.  61. 
||  Waring,  Evidence,  No.  38 ;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  25,  1.  57. 
f  Stewart,  Evidence,  No.  7;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  50,  1.  48. 

7 


90  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

comparatively  few  miners  attain  their  fifty-first  year. 
In  Warwickshire  and  Leicestershire  it  is  not  uncommon 
for  the  men  to  follow  their  occupation  ten  years  longer ; 
but  all  classes  of  witnesses  in  the  other  districts  uni- 
formly state  that  it  is  rare  to  see  an  old  collier. 

In  Derbyshire,  William  Wardle  "  does  not  think 
colliers  live  as  long  as  those  above  ground ;  very  few 
live  to  be  sixty."* 

In  Yorkshire,  "  colliers  have  harder  work  than  any 
other  class  of  workmen,  and  the  length  of  time  they 
work,  as  well  as  the  intense  exertion  they  undergo, 
added  to  the  frequent  unhealthiness  of  the  atmosphere, 
decidedly  tend  to  shorten  their  lives." f  Mr.  Henry 
Hemmingway,  surgeon,  Dewsbury,  states — « I  only 
knew  one  old  collier,  "f  Mr.  Thomas  Rayner,  surgeon, 
Bristall,  says — "  I  have  had  twenty-seven  years'  prac- 
tice, and  I  know  of  no  old  colliers — their  extreme  term 
of  life  is  from  fifty-six  to  sixty  years  of  age."§  In 
Lancashire,  states  Mr.  Kennedy,  "it  appeared  tome 
that  the  number  of  aged  men  was  much  smaller  than  in 
other  occupations." || 

After  stating  that  the  colliers  of  South  Durham  are 
a  strong  and  healthy  race,  Dr.  Mitchell  adds — "  The 


*  Fellows,  Evidence,  No.  84;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  287,  1.  38. 

f  Symons,  Report,  s.  110,  App.  pt.  i.  p.  181. 

J  Symons,  Evidence,  No.  221 ;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  282,  1.  45. 

§  Ibid.  No.  268 ;  p.  292,  1.  51. 

U  Kennedy,  Report,  s.  299 ;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  188. 


OF   ENGLAND.  91 

work,  however,  is  laborious  and  exhausting ;  and  the 
colliers,  though  healthy,  are  not  long-lived."*  John 
Wetherell  Hays,  clerk  of  the  Union,  Durham,  states, 
"that  the  colliers  are  not  long-lived;  that  they  live 
well,  and  live  fast."f  And  George  Canney,  medical 
practitioner,  Bishop  Auckland,  says  "  they  are  gene- 
rally short-lived.  "J 

The  sub-commissioner  for  the  East  of  Scotland  re- 
ports, that  after  a  careful  consideration  of  all  the 
sources  of  information  which  could  assist  him  in  the 
object  of  his  inquiry,  he  arrives  at  the  following  conclu- 
sion : — "  That  the  labour  in  the  coal-mines  in  the  Lo- 
thian and  River  Forth  districts  of  Scotland  is  most 
severe,  and  that  its  severity  is  in  many  cases  increased  by 
the  want  of  proper  attention  to  the  economy  of  mining 
operations ;  whence  those  operations,  as  at  present  carried 
on,  are  extremely  unwholesome,  and  productive  of  dis- 
eases which  have  a  manifest  tendency  to  shorten  life."§ 
Mr.  Walter  Jarvie,  manager  to  Mr.  Cadell,  of  Banton, 
states  that  "  in  the  small  village  of  Banton  there  are 
nearly  forty  widows ;  and  as  the  children  work  always 
on  parents'  behalf,  it  prevents  them  having  recourse  to 
the  kirk-session  for  relief."||  Elsper  Thompson  says, 


*  Mitchell,  Report,  s.  212 ;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  143. 

f  Mitchell,  Evidence,  No.  96  ;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  153,  1.  67. 

J  Ibid.  No.  97;  p.  153,  1.  G4. 

g  Franks,  Report,  s.  121  ;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  408. 

U  Franks,  Evidence,  No.  273 ;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  487,  1.  25. 


92  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

"  Most  of  the  men  begin  to  complain  at  thirty  to  thirty- 
five  years  of  age,  and  drop  off  before  they  get  the 
length  of  forty."*  Henry  Naysmith,  sixty-five  years 
of  age,  collier,  who  says  he  has  wrought  upward  of 
fifty  years,  adds  that  "  he  has  been  off  work  nearly  ten 
years,  and  is  much  afflicted  with  shortness  of  breath :  it 
is  the  bane  of  the  colliers,  and  few  men  live  to  my 

age."t 

In  North  Wales,  it  is  said  that  "  few  colliers  come  to 

the  age  of  sixty,  and  but  still  fewer  miners.  This  I 
believe  to  be  the  fact,  though  I  met  with  many,  both 
miners  and  colliers,  who  had  attained  the  age  of  sixty ; 
yet  they  were  few  compared  with  the  number  employed 
in  these  branches  of  industry.";};  Mr.  John  Jones, 
relieving-officer  for  the  Holy  well  district,  "  thinks  they 
are  not  as  long-lived  as  agriculturists. "§  James  Jones, 
overman,  Cyfarthfa  Works,  states  "that  the  colliers 
are  generally  very  healthy  and  strong  up  to  the  age  of 
forty  or  fifty ;  they  then  often  have  a  difficulty  of 
breathing,  and  they  die  at  younger  ages  than  agricul- 
tural labourers  or  handicraftsmen."!]  Mr.  John  Hughes, 
assistant  underground  agent,  says  "  they  do  not  appear 
to  live  long  after  fifty  or  sixty  years  old."^f 


*  Franks,  Evidence,  No.  73;  p.  450,  1.  31. 

f  Ibid.  No.  83 ;  p.  452,  1.  29. 

%  H.  H.  Jones,  Report,  s.  84 ;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  375. 

§  H.  H.  Jones,  Evidence,  No.  96  ;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  407,  1.  53. 

y  Ibid.  No.  2 ;  p.  378, 1.  35.        fi  Ibid.  No.  3 ;  p.  379, 1.  34. 


OF   ENGLAND.  93 

In  South  Wales,  the  sub-commissioner  reports  that  he 
«  has  not  been  able  to  ascertain,  for  want  of  sufficient 
data,  the  average  duration  of  a  collier's  life  in  the 
counties  either  of  Glamorgan  or  Monmouth,  but  it  is 
admitted  that  such  average  duration  is  less  than  that 
of  a  common  labourer.  In  the  county  of  Pembroke, 
however,  Mr.  James  Bowen,  surgeon,  Narbeth,  in  that 
county,  informs  me — "  The  average  life  of  a  collier  is 
about  forty ;  they  rarely  attain  forty-five  years  of  age ; 
and  in  the  entire  population  of  Begelly  and  East  Wil- 
liamson, being  1163,  forming,  strictly  speaking,  a 
mining  population,  there  are  not  six  colliers  of  sixty 
years  of  age." 

The  Rev.  Richard  Buckby,  rector  of  Begelly,  in 
answer  to  one  of  the  queries  in  the  Educational  Paper 
of  the  Central  Board,  writes — "The  foul  air  of  the 
mines  seriously  affects  the  lungs  of  the  children  and 
young  persons  employed  therein,  and  shortens  the  term 
of  life.  In  a  population  of  one  thousand,  there  are 
not  six  colliers  sixty  years  of  age." 

There  are  certain  minor  evils  connected  with  employ 
ment  in  the  worst  class  of  coal-mines,  which,  though  not 
perhaps  very  serious,  are  nevertheless  sources  of  much 
suffering,  such  as  irritation  of  the  head,  feet,  back>  and 
skin,  together  with  occasional  strains.  "  The  upper 
parts  of  their  head  are  always  denuded  of  hair;  their 
scalps  are  also  thickened  and  inflamed,  sometimes 
taking  on  the  appearance  tinea  capitis,  from  the  press- 


94  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

ure  and  friction  which  they  undergo  in  the  act  of 
pushing  the  corves  forward,  although  they  are  mostly 
defended  by  a  padded  cap."*  "It  is  no  uncommon 
thing  to  see  the  hurriers  bald,  owing  to  pushing  the 
corves  up  steep  board  gates,  with  their  heads. "f 

Mr.  Alexander  Muir,  surgeon:  "Are  there  any  pe- 
culiar diseases  to  which  colliers  are  subject?  No,  ex- 
cepting that  the  hurriers  are  occasionally  affected  by  a 
formation  of  matter  upon  the  forehead,  in  consequence 
of  pushing  the  wagons  with  their  head.  To  what  ex- 
tent is  such  formation  of  matter  injurious  to  the 
general  health?  It  produces  considerable  local  irri- 
tation. When  the  matter  is  allowed  to  escape,  it  heals 
as  perfectly  as  before.  Do  you  conceive  this  use  of 
the  head  to  be  a  necessary  or  unnecessary  part  of  their 
occupation?  I  should  think  it  not  necessary.  Does  it 
arise  from  any  deficiency  of  strength,  the  head  being 
used  to  supply  the  place  of  the  arms  ?  I  should  think 
it  does."J  David  Swallow,  collier,  East  Moor:  "The 
hair  is  very  often  worn  off  bald,  and  the  part  is  swollen 
so  that  sometimes  it  is  like  a  b.ulb  filled  with  spongy 
matter ;  so  very  bad  after  they  have  done  their  day's 
work  that  they  cannot  bear  it  touching."§  William 
Holt :  "  Some  thrutched  with  their  heads,  because 


*  Scriven,  Report,  s.  83 ;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  72. 

f  Symons,  Evidence,  s.  96 ;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  187. 

j  Wood,  Evidence,  No.  76;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  h  32,  1.  18. 

g  Symons,  Evidence,  No.  197;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  277,  1.  68. 


OF  ENGLAND,  95 

they  cannot  thrutch  enough  with  their  hands  alone. 
Thrutching  with  their  heads  makes  a  gathering  in  the 
head,  and  makes  them  very  ill."* 

In  running  continually  over  uneven  ground,  without 
shoes  or  stockings,  particles  of  dirt,  coal,  and  stone  get 
between  the  toes,  and  are  prolific  sources  of  irritation 
and  lameness,  of  which  they  often  complain ;  the  skin 
covering  the  balls  of  the  toes  and  heels  becomes  thick- 
ened and  horny,  occasioning  a  good  deal  of  pain  and 
pustular  gathering. "f  James  Mitchell:  "I  have  hurt 
my  feet  often ;  sometimes  the  coals  cut  them,  and  they 
run  matter,  and  the  corves  run  over  them  when  I  stand 
agate;  I  an't  not  always  aware  of  their  coming.";]: 
Selina  Ambler :  "  I  many  times  hurt  my  feet  and  legs 
with  the  coals  and  scale  in  gate ;  sometimes  we  run 
corve  over  them;  my  feet  have  many  a  time  been 
blooded."§  Mrs.  Carr  :  "Has  known  many  foals  laid 
off  with  sore  backs,  especially  last  year  and  the  year 
before,  when  the  putting  was  said  to  be  very  heavy  in 
the  Flatworth  pit.  Some  foals  had  to  lay  off  a  day  or 
two,  to  get  their  backs  healed,  before  they  could  go  to 
work  again."||  William  Jakes:  "His  back  is  often 
skinned ;  is  now  sore  and  all  red,  from  holding  on  or 

*  Austin,  Evidence,  No.  9 ;  App.pt.  ii.  p.  813,  1.  40. 

f  Scriven,  Report,  s.  82  ;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  72. 

J  Scriven,  Evidence,  No.  2  ;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  101,  1.  33. 

g  Ibid.  No.  79,  p.  124,  1.  28.     See  also  Nos.  12,  13,  18,  25. 

y  Leifchild,  Evidence,  No.  86 ;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  583,  1.  27. 


96  THE  WHITE  SLAVES 

back  against  the  corf."*  George  Faction:  "In  some 
places  he  bends  quite  double,  and  rubs  his  back  so  as  to 
bring  the  skin  off,  and  whiles  to  make  it  bleed,  and 
whiles  he  is  off  work  from  these  things,  "f  Mr.  James 
Probert,  surgeon :  "  Chronic  pain  in  the  back  is  a 
very  common  complaint  among  colliers,  arising  from 
overstrained  tendonous  muscles,  and  it  is  the  source  of 
much  discomfort  to  the  colliers.'^  Mr.  William  Dodd, 
surgeon:  "As  to  the  'boils/  when  a  fresh  man  comes 
to  the  colliery  he  generally  becomes  affected  by  these 
<  boils/  most  probably  from  the  heat  in  the  first  instance, 
and  subsequently  they  are  aggravated  by  the  salt 
water."§  James  Johnson:  "Sometimes  when  among 
the  salt  water,  the  heat,  etc.,  brings  out  boils  about  the 
size  of  a  hen's  egg  upon  him,  about  his  legs  and  thighs, 
and  under  his  arms  sometimes.  A  vast  of  boys,  men, 
and  all,  have  these  boils  at  times.  These  boils  perhaps 
last  a  fortnight  before  they  get  ripe,  and  then  they 
burst.  A  great  white  thing  follows,  and  is  called  a 
< tanner'  "\\  Dr.  Adams,  Glasgow:  "An  eruption  on 
the  skin  is  very  prevalent  among  colliers. "Tf  William 
Mackenzie:  "Had  about  twenty  boils  on  his  back  at 


*  Leifchild,  Evidence,  No.  201;  p.  610,  1.  52. 

f  Ibid.  No.  267,  p.  623,  1.  11. 

J  Franks,  Evidence,  No.  31 ;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  510, 1.  49. 

g  Leifchild,  Evidence,  No.  385  ;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  645,  1.  35. 

||  Ibid.  No.  375,  p.  644,  1.  48. 

f  Tancred,  Evidence,  No.  9 ;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  361,  1.  45. 


OP  ENGLAND.  97 

one  time,  about  two  years  since.  These  lasted  about 
three  months.  He  was  kept  off  work  about  a  week. 
If  he  touched  them  against  any  thing  they  were  like 
death  to  him.  But  few  of  the  boys  have  so  many  at  a 
time;  many  of  the  boys  get  two  or  three  at  a  time. 
The  boys  take  physic  to  bring  them  all  out ;  then  they 
get  rid  of  them  for  some  time.  If  the  salt  water  falls 
on  any  part  of  them  that  is  scotched,  it  burns  into  the 
flesh  like  ;  it  is  like  red  rust.  It  almost  blinds  the 
boys  if  it  gets  into  their  eyes."* 

Accidents  of  a  fatal  nature  are  of  frightful  fre- 
quency in  the  mines.  In  one  year  there  were  three 
hundred  and  forty-nine  deaths  by  violence  in  the  coal- 
mines of  England  alone.  Of  the  persons  thus  killed, 
fifty-eight  were  under  thirteen  years  of  age ;  sixty-two 
under  eighteen,  and  the  remainder  over  eighteen. 
One  of  the  most  frequent  causes  of  accidents  is  the 
want  of  superintendence  to  see  the  security  of  the  ma- 
chinery for  letting  down  -and  bringing  up  the  work- 
people, and  the  restriction  of  the  number  of  persons 
who  ascend  or  descend  at  the  same  time.  The  com- 
missioners observed  at  Elland  two  hurriers,  named  Ann 
Ambler  and  William  Dyson,  cross-lapped  upon  a  clutch- 
iron,  drawn  up  by  a  woman.  As  soon  as  they  arrived 
at  the  top  the  handle  was  made  fast  by  a  bolt.  The 

*  Leifchild,  Evidence,  No.  376;  App.  pt.  i.  p.  644,  1.  64. 


98  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

woman  then  grasped  a  hand  of  both  at  the  same  time, 
and  by  main  force  brought  them  to  land. 

From  all  the  evidence  adduced,  the  commissioners 
came  to  the  following  conclusions : — 

"  In  regard  to  coal-mines — 

"That  instances  occur  in  which  children  are  taken  into7  these 
mines  to  work  as  early  as  four  years  of  age,  sometimes  at  five, 
and  between  five  and  six ;  not  unfrequently  between  six  and 
seven,  and  often  from  seven  to  eight ;  while  from  eight  to  nine  is 
the  ordinary  age  at  which  employment  in  these  mines  com- 
mences. 

"  That  a  very  large  proportion  of  the  persons  employed  in  car- 
rying on  the  work  of  these  mines  is  under  thirteen  years  of  age  ; 
and  a  still  larger  proportion  between  thirteen  and  eighteen. 

"That  in  several  districts  female  children  begin  to  work  in 
these  mines  at  the  same  early  ages  as  the  males. 

"  That  the  great  body  of  the  children  and  young  persons  em- 
ployed in  these  mines  are  of  the  families  of  the  adult  work- 
people engaged  in  the  pits,  or  belong  to  the  poorest  population  in 
the  neighbourhood,  and  are  hired  and  paid  in  some  districts  by 
the  work-people,  but  in  others  by  the  proprietors  or  contractors. 

"  That  there  are  in  some  districts,  also,  a  small  number  of 
parish  apprentices,  who  are  bound  to  serve  their  masters  until 
twenty-one  years  of  age,  in  an  employment  in  which  there  is 
nothing  deserving  the  name  of  skill  to  be  acquired,  under  circum- 
stances of  frequent  ill-treatment,  and  under  the  oppressive  con- 
dition that  they  shall  receive  only  food  and  clothing,  while  their 
free  companions  may  be  obtaining  a  man's  wages. 

"  That,  in  many  instances,  much  that  skill  and  capital  can  effect 
to  render  the  place  of  work  unoppressive  and  healthy  and  safe, 
is  done,  often  with  complete  success,  as  far  as  regards  the  health- 
fulness  and  comfort  of  the  mines ;  but  that  to  render  them  per- 
fectly safe  does  not  appear  to  be  practicable  by  any  means  yet 
known ;  while,  in  great  numbers  of  instances,  their  condition  in 
regard  both  to  ventilation  and  drainage  is  lamentably  defective. 


OF  ENGLAND.  99 

*'  That  the  nature  of  the  employment  which  is  assigned  to  the 
youngest  children — generally  that  of  *  trapping' — requires  that 
they  should  be  in  the  pit  as  soon  as  the  work  of  the  day  com- 
mences, and,  according  to  the  present  system,  that  they  should 
not  leave  the  pit  before  the  work  of  the  day  is  at  an  end. 

"  That  although  this  employment  scarcely  deserves  the  name 
of  labour,  yet,  as  the  children  engaged  in  it  are  commonly  ex- 
cluded from  light,  and  are  always  without  companions,  it  would, 
were  it  not  for  the  passing  and  repassing  of  the  coal-carriages, 
amount  to  solitary  confinement  of  the  worst  sort. 

"  That  in  those  districts  where  the  seams  of  coal  are  so  thick 
that  horses  go  direct  to  the  workings,  or  in  which  the  side  pas- 
sages from  the  workings  to  the  horseways  are  not  of  any  great 
length,  the  lights  in  the  main  way  render  the  situation  of  the 
children  comparatively  less  cheerless,  dull,  and  stupefying;  but 
that  in  some  districts  they  are  in  solitude  and  darkness  during 
the  whole  time  they  are  in  the  pit ;  and,  according  to  their  own 
account,  many  of  them  never  see  the  light  of  day  for  weeks 
together  during  the  greater  part  of  the  winter  season,  except  on 
those  days  in  the  week  when  work  is  not  going  on,  and  on  the 
Sundays. 

"  That,  at  different  ages  from  six  years  old  and  upward,  the 
hard  work  of  pushing  and  dragging  the  carriages  of  coal  from 
the  workings  to  the  main  ways,  or  to  the  foot  of  the  shaft,  begins ; 
a  labour  which  all  classes  of  witnesses  concur  in  stating  requires 
the  unremitting  exertion  of  all  the  physical  power  which  the 
young  workers  possess. 

"  That,  in  the  districts  in  which  females  are  taken  down  into  the 
coal-mines,  both  sexes  are  employed  together  in  precisely  the  same 
kind  of  labour,  and  work  for  the  same  number  of  hours ;  that  the 
girls  and  boys,  and  the  young  men  and  young  women,  and  even 
married  women  and  women  with  child,  commonly  work  almost 
naked,  and  the  men,  in  many  mines,  quite  naked ;  and  that  all 
classes  of  witnesses  bear  testimony  to  the  demoralizing  influence 
of  the  employment  of  females  under  ground. 

"  That,  in  the  East  of  Scotland,  a  much  larger  proportion  of 
children  and  young  persons  are  employed  in  these  mines  than  in 


100  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

any  other  districts,  many  of  whom  are  girls  ;  and  that  the  chief 
part  of  their  labour  consists  in  carrying  the  coal  on  their  backs 
up  steep  ladders. 

"  That,  when  the  work-people  are  in  full  employment,  the  re- 
gular hours  of  work  for  children  and  young  persons  are  rarely 
less  than  eleven,  more  often  they  are  twelve ;  in  some  districts 
they  are  thirteen,  and  in  one  district  they  are  generally  fourteen 
and  upward. 

"  That,  in  the  great  majority  of  these  mines,  night-work  is  a  part 
of  the  ordinary  system  of  labour,  more  or  less  regularly  carried 
on  according  to  the  demand  for  coals,  and  one  which  the  whole 
body  of  evidence  shows  to  act  most  injuriously  both  on  the  phy- 
sical and  moral  condition  of  the  work-people,  and  more  especially 
on  that  of  the  children  and  young  persons. 

"  That  the  labour  performed  daily  for  this  number  of  hours, 
though  it  cannot  strictly  be  said  to  be  continuous,  because,  from 
the  nature  of  the  employment,  intervals  of  a  few  minutes  neces- 
sarily occur  during  which  the  muscles  are  not  in  active  exertion, 
is,  nevertheless,  generally  uninterrupted  by  any  regular  time  set 
apart  for  rest  or  refreshment ;  what  food  is  taken  in  the  pit  being 
eaten  as  best  it  may  while  the  labour  continues. 

"That  in  all  well-regulated  mines,  in  which  in  general  the 
hours  of  work  are  the  shortest,  and  in  some  few  of  which  from 
half  an  hour  to  an  hour  is  regularly  set  apart  for  meals,  little  or 
no  fatigue  is  complained  of  after  an  ordinary  day's  work,  when 
the  children  are  ten  years  old  and  upward ;  but  in  other  in- 
stances great  complaint  is  made  of  the  feeling  of  fatigue,  and  the 
work-people  are  never  without  this  feeling,  often  in  an  extremely 
painful  degree. 

"  That  in  many  cases  the  children  and  young  persons  have 
little  cause  of  complaint  in  regard  to  the  treatment  they  receive 
from  the  persons  of  authority  in  the  mine,  or  from  the  colliers ; 
but  that  in  general  the  younger  children  are  roughly  used  by 
their  older  companions,  while  in  many  mines  the  conduct  of  the 
adult  colliers  to  the  children  and  adult  persons  who  assist  them 
is  harsh  and  cruel ;  the  persons  in  authority  in  these  mines,  who 
must  be  cognizant  of  this  ill-usage,  never  interfering  to  prevent 


OF   ENGLAND.  101 

it,  and  some  of  them  distinctly  stating  that  they  do  not  conceive 
that  they  have  any  right  to  do  so. 

"  That,  with  some  exceptions,  little  interest  is  taken  by  the 
coal-owners  in  the  children  or  young  t  persons  employed  in  their 
works  after  the  daily  labour  is  over ;  at  least,  little  is  done  to 
afford  them  the  means  of  enjoying  innocent  amusement  and 
healthful  recreation. 

"  That  in  all  the  coal  fields  accidents  of  a  fearful  nature  are 
extremely  frequent ;  and  that  the  returns  made  to  our  own  queries, 
as  well  as  the  registry  tables,  prove  that,  of  the  work-people  who 
perish  by  such  accidents,  the  proportion  of  children  and  young  per- 
sons sometimes  equals  and  rarely  falls  much  below  that  of  adults. 

"  That  one  of  the  most  frequent  causes  of  accidents  in  these 
mines  is  the  want  of  superintendence  by  overlookers  or  otherwise, 
to  see  to  the  security  of  the  machinery  for  letting  down  and  bring- 
ing up  the  work-people,  the  restriction  of  the  number  of  persons 
that  ascend  and  descend  at  a  time,  the  state  of  the  mine  as  to  the 
quantity  of  noxious  gas  in  it,  the  efficiency  of  the  ventilation,  the 
exactness  with  which  the  air-door  keepers  perform  their  duty,  the 
places  into  which  it  is  safe  or  unsafe  to  go  with  a  naked  lighted 
'candle,  the  security  of  the  proppings  to  uphold  the  roof,  &c. 

"  That  another  frequent  cause  of  fatal  accidents  is  the  almost 
universal  practice  of  intrusting  the  closing  of  the  air-doors  to  very 
young  children. 

"  That  there  are  many  mines  in  which  the  most  ordinary  pre- 
cautions to  guard  against  accidents  are  neglected,  and  in  which 
no  money  appears  to  be  expended  with  a  view  to  secure  the  safety, 
much  less  the  comfort,  of  the  work-people. 

"  There  are,  moreover,  two  practices,  peculiar  to  a  few  districts, 
which  deserve  the  highest  reprobation,  namely, — first,  the  prac- 
tice, not  unknown  in  some  of  the  smaller  mines  in  Yorkshire,  and 
common  in  Lancashire,  in  employing  ropes  that  are  unsafe  for 
letting  down  and  drawing  up  the  work-people ;  and  second,  the 
practice  occasionally  met  with  in  Yorkshire,  and  common  in  Der- 
byshire and  Lancashire,  of  employing  boys  at  the  steam-engines 
for  letting  down  and  drawing  up  the  work-people." — First  Report, 
Conclusions,  p.  255-257, 


102  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

Well,  what  did  the  British  Government  do  when  the 
heart-rending  report  of  the  commissioners  was  received  ? 
It  felt  the  necessity  of  a  show  of  legislative  interference. 
Lord  Ashley  introduced  a  bill  into  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, having  for  its  object  the  amelioration  of  the  con- 
dition of  the  mining  women  and  children.  Much  discus- 
sion occurred.  The  bill  passed  the  House  of  Commons, 
and  was  taken  to  the  House  of  Lords,  the  high  court  of 
British  oppression.  Some  lords  advocated  the  measure, 
whereupon  Lord  Londonderry  and  some  others  spoke 
of  them  as  "bitten  with  a  humanity  mania."  Modifi- 
cations were  made  in  the  bill  to  suit  the  pockets  of  the 
luxurious  proprietors,  and  then  it  was  grumblingly 
adopted.  What  did  the  bill  provide  ?  That  no  child 
under  ten  years  of  age,  and  no  woman  or  girl,  of  any 
age,  should  be  allowed  to  work  in  a  mine.  Now,  chil- 
dren may  be  ten  years  of  age,  and  above  that,  and  yet 
they  are  still  tender  little  creatures.  The  majority  of 
the  sufferers  who  came  to  the  notice  of  the  commis- 
sioners were  above  ten  years  of  age !  In  that  point, 
at  least,  the  bill  was  worse  than  a  nullity — it  was  a  base 
deceit,  pouring  balm,  but  not  upon  the  wound ! 

The  same  bill  provided  that  no  females  should  be 
allowed  to  work  in  the  mines.  But  then  the  females 
were  driven  to  the  mines  by  the  dread  of  starvation. 
Soon  after  the  passage  of  the  bill,  petitions  from  the 
mining  districts  were  sent  to  Parliament,  praying  that 
females  might  be  allowed  to  work  in  the  mines.  The 


OF   ENGLAND.  103 

petitioners  had  no  means  of  getting  bread.  If  they 
had,  they  would  never  have  been  in  the  mines  at  all. 
The  horrors  of  labour  in  the  mines  were  consequences 
of  the  general  slavery.  Well,  there  were  many  pro- 
prietors of  mines  in  Parliament,  and  their  influence 
was  sufficient  to  nullify  the  law  in  practice.  There  is 
good  authority  for  believing  that  the  disgusting  slavery 
of  the  British  mines  has  been  ameliorated  only  to  a  very 
limited  extent. 


104  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 


CHAPTER  III. 

SLAVERY  IN   THE   BRITISH   FACTORIES. 

GREAT  BRITAIN  has  long  gloried  in  the  variety  and 
importance  of  her  manufactures.  Burke  spoke  of  Bir- 
mingham as  the  toyshop  of  Europe ;  and,  at  this  day, 
the  looms  of  Manchester  and  the  other  factory  towns 
of  England  furnish  the  dry-goods  of  a  large  portion  of 
the  world.  Viewed  at  a  distance,  this  wonder-working 
industry  excites  astonishment  and  admiration;  but  a 
closer  inspection  will  show  us  such  corrupt  and  gloomy 
features  in  this  vast  manufacturing  system  as  will  turn 
a  portion  of  admiration  into  shrinking  disgust.  Giving 
the  meed  of  praise  to  the  perfection  of  machinery  and 
the  excellence  of  the  fabrics,  what  shall  we  say  of  the 
human  operatives  ?  For  glory  purchased  at  the  price 
of  blood  and  souls  is  a  vanity  indeed.  Let  us  see ! 

The  number  of  persons  employed  in  the  cotton,  wool, 
silk,  and  flax  manufactures  of  Great  Britain  is  estimated 
at  about  two  millions.  Mr.  Baines  states  that  about 
one  and  a  half  million  are  employed  in  the  cotton  manu- 
factures alone.  The  whole  number  employed  in  the 
production  of  all  sorts  of  iron,  hardware,  and  cutlery 


OF   ENGLAND.  105 

articles  is  estimated  at  350,000.  In  the  manufacture 
of  jewelry,  earthen  and  glass  ware,  paper,  woollen  stuffs, 
distilled  and  fermented  liquors,  and  in  the  common 
trades  of  tailoring,  shoemaking,  carpentering,  &c.,  the 
numbers  employed  are  very  great,  though  not  accu- 
rately known.  We  think  the  facts  will  bear  us  out  in 
stating  that  this  vast  body  of  operatives  suffer  more  of 
the  real  miseries  of  slavery  than  any  similar  class  upon 
the  face  of  the  earth. 

In  the  first  place,  admitting  that  wages  are  as  high 
in  Great  Britain  as  in  any  continental  country,  the 
enormous  expenses  of  the  church  and  aristocracy  pro- 
duce a  taxation  which  eats  up  so  large  a  portion  of 
these  wages,  that  there  is  not  enough  left  to  enable  the 
workman  to  live  decently  and  comfortably.  But  the 
wages  are,  in  general,  brought  very  low  by  excessive 
competition ;  and,  in  consequence,  the  operative  must 
stretch  his  hours  of  toil  far  beyond  all  healthy  limits  to 
earn  enough  to  pay  taxes  and  support  himself.  It  is 
the  struggle  of  drowning  men,  and  what  wonder  if  many 
sink  beneath  the  gloomy  waves  ? 

When  C.  Edwards  Lester,  an  author  of  reputation,  was 
in  England,  he  visited  Manchester,  and,  making  inquiries 
of  an  operative,  obtained  the  following  reply : — 

"  I  have  a  wife  and  nine  children,  and  a  pretty  hard  time  we 
have  too,  we  are  so  many ;  and  most  of  the  children  are  so  small, 
they  can  do  little  for  the  support  of  the  family.  I  generally  get 
from,  two  shillings  to  a  crown  a  day  for  carrying  luggage ;  and 
some  of  my  children  are  in  the  mills  5  and  the  rest  are  too  young 

8 


106  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

to  work  yet.  My  wife  is  never  well,  and  it  comes  pretty  hard  on 
her  to  do  the  work  of  the  whole  family.  We  often  talk  these 
things  over,  and  feel  pretty  sad.  We  live  in  a  poor  house ;  we 
can't  clothe  our  children  comfortably ;  not  one  of  them  ever  went 
to  school :  they  could  go  to  the  Sunday-school,  but  we  can't  make 
them  look  decent  enough  to  go  to  such  a  place.  As  for  meat,  we 
never  taste  it ;  potatoes  and  coarse  bread  are  our  principal  food. 
We  can't  save  any  thing  for  a  day  of  want ;  almost  every  thing 
we  get  for  our  work  seems  to  go  for  taxes.  We  are  taxed  for 
something  almost  every  week  in  the  year.  We  have  no  time  to 
ourselves  when  we  are  free  from  work.  It  seems  that  our  life  is 
all  toil ;  I  sometimes  almost  give  up.  Life  isn't  worth  much  to  a 
poor  man  in  England ;  and  sometimes  Mary  and  I,  when  we  talk 
about  it,  pretty  much  conclude  that  we  all  should  be  better  off  if 
we  were  dead.  I  have  gone  home  at  night  a  great  many  times, 
and  told  my  wife  when  she  said  supper  was  ready,  that  I  had 
taken  a  bite  at  a  chophouse  on  the  way,  and  was  not  hungry — • 
she  and  the  children 'could  eat  my  share.  Yes,  I  have  said  this  a 
great  many  times  when  I  felt  pretty  hungry  myself.  I  sometimes 
wonder  that  God  suffers  so  many  poor  people  to  come  into  the 
world/' 

And  this  is,  comparatively,  a  mild  case.  Instances 
of  hard-working  families  living  in  dark,  damp  cellars, 
and  having  the  coarsest  food,  are  common  in  Manches- 
ter, Birmingham,  and  other  manufacturing  towns. 

Mrs.  Graskell,  in  her  thrilling  novel,  "Mary  Barton, 
a  Tale  of  Manchester  Life/'  depicts  without  exaggera- 
tion the  sufferings  of  the  operatives  and  their  families 
•when  work  is  a  little  slack,  or  when,  by  accident,  they 
are  thrown  out  of  employment  for  a  short  period.  A 
large  factory,  belonging  to  a  Mr.  Carson,  had  been  1 
destroyed  by  fire,  and  about  the  same  time,  as  trade 
was  bad,  some  mills  shortened  hours,  turned  off  hands, 


OF   ENGLAND.  107 

and  finally  stopped  work  altogether.  Almost  incon- 
ceivable misery  followed  among  the  unemployed  work- 
men. In  the  best  of  times  they  fared  hardly ;  now  they 
were  forced  to  live  in  damp  and  filthy  cellars,  and  many 
perished,  either  from  starvation  or  from  fevers  bred  in 
their  horrible  residences.  One  cold  evening  John  Barton 
received  a  hurried  visit  from  a  fellow-operative,  named 
George  Wilson. 

"'  You've  not  got  a  bit  o'  money  by  you,  Barton  V  asked  he. 

"'Not  I;  who  has  now,  I'd  like  to  know?  Whatten  you  wanfc 
it  for?' 

"  'I  donnot  want  it  for  mysel,  tho'  we've  none  to  spare.  But  don 
ye  know  Ben  Davenport  as  worked  at  Carson's  ?  He's  down  wi* 
the  fever,  and  ne'er  a  stick  o'  fire,  nor  a  cowd  potato  in  the  house/ 

"'  I  han  got  no  money,  I  tell  ye,'  said  Barton.  Wilson  looked 
disappointed.  Barton  tried  not  to  be  interested,  but  he  could  not 
help  it  in  spite  of  his  gruifness.  He  rose,  and  went  to  the  cup- 
board, (his  wife's  pride  long  ago.)  There  lay  the  remains  of  his 
dinner,  hastily  put  there  ready  for  supper.  Bread,  and  a  slice  of 
cold,  fat,  boiled  bacon.  He  wrapped  them  in  his  handkerchief, 
put  them  in  the  crown  of  his  hat,  and  said — '  Come,  let's  be  going/ 

" '  Going — art  thou  going  to  work  this  time  o'  day  ?' 

" l  No,  stupid,  to  be  sure  not.  Going  to  see  the  fellow  thou  spoke 
on.'  So  they  put  on  their  hats  and  set  out.  On  the  way  Wilson 
said  Davenport  was  a  good  fellow,  though  too  much  of  the  Me- 
thodee ;  that  his  children  were  too  young  to  work,  but  not  too 
young  to  be  cold  and  hungry;  that  they  had  sunk  lower  and 
lower,  and  pawned  thing  after  thing,  and  that  now  they  lived  in 
in  a  cellar  in  Berry-street,  off  Store-street.  Barton  growled  inar- 
ticulate words  of  no  benevolent  import  to  a  large  class  of  mankind, 
and  so  they  went  along  till  they  arrived  in  Berry-street.  It  was 
unpaved ;  and  down"  the  middle  a  gutter  forced  its  way,  every 
now  and  then  forming  pools  in  the  holes  with  which  the  street 
abounded.  Never  was  the  Old  Edinburgh  cry  of  '  Gardez  Poau/ 


108  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

more  necessary  than  in  this  street.  As  they  passed,  women  from 
their  doors  tossed  household  slops  of  every  description  into  the 
gutter ;  they  ran  into  the  next  pool,  which  overflowed  and  stag- 
nated. Heaps  of  ashes  were  the  stepping-stones,  on  which  the 
passer-by,  who  cared  in  the  least  for  cleanliness,  took  care  not  to 
put  his  foot.  Our  friends  were  not  dainty,  but  even  they  picked 
their  way  till  they  got  to  some  steps  leading  down  into  a  small 
area,  where  a  person  standing  would  have  his  head  about  one  foot 
below  the  level  of  the  street,  and  might,  at  the  same  time,  without 
the  least  motion  of  his  body,  touch  the  window  of  the  cellar  and 
the  damp,  muddy  wall  right  opposite.  You  went  down  one  step 
even  from  the  foul  area  into  the  cellar,  in  which  a  family  of  human 
beings  lived.  It  was  very  dark  inside.  The  window  panes  were 
many  of  them  broken  and  stuffed  with  rags,  which  was  reason 
enough  for  the  dusky  light  that  pervaded  the  place  even  at  mid- 
day. After  the  account  I  have  given  of  the  state  of  the  street,  no 
one  can  be  surprised  that,  on  going  into  the  cellar  inhabited  by 
Davenport,  the  smell  was  so  fetid  as  almost  to  knock  the  two 
men  down.  Quickly  recovering  themselves,  as  those  inured  to 
such  things  do,  they  began  to  penetrate  the  thick  darkness  of  the 
place,  and  to  see  three  or  four  little  children  rolling  on  the  damp, 
nay,  wet,  brick  floor,  through  which  the  stagnant,  filthy  moisture 
of  the  street  oozed  up ;  the  fireplace  was  empty  and  black ;  the 
wife  sat  on  her  husband's  lair,  and  cried  in  the  dank  loneliness. 

" '  See,  missis,  I'm  back  again.  Hold  your  noise,  children,  and 
don't  mither  (trouble)  your  mammy  for  bread,  here's  a  chap  aa 
has  got  some  for  you/ 

"In  that  dim  light,  which  was  darkness  to  strangers,  they 
clustered  round  Barton,  and  tore  from  him  the  food  he  had 
brought  with  him.  It  was  a  large  hunch  of  bread,  but  it  had 
vanished  in  an  instant. 

"'We  maun  do  summut  for  'em/  said  he  to  Wilson.  '  Yo  stop 
here,  and  I'll  be  back  in  half  an  hour.' 

"  So  he  strode,  and  ran,  and  hurried  home.  He  emptied  into  the 
ever-useful  pocket-handkerchief  the  little  meal  remaining  in  the 
mug.  Mary  would  have  her  tea  at  Miss  Simmonds' ;  her  food  for 
the  day  was  safe.  Then  he  went  up-stairs  for  his  better  coat,  and 


OF   ENGLAND.  109 

his  one,  gay,  red  and  yellow  silk  pocket-handkerchief — his  jewels, 
his  plate,  his  valuables  these  were.  He  went  to  the  pawn-shop ; 
he  pawned  them  for  five  shillings  ;  he  stopped  not,  nor  stayed,  till 
he  was  once  more  in  London  Road,  within  five  minutes'  walk  of 
Berry-street — then  he  loitered  in  his  gait,  in  order  to  discover  the 
shops  he  wanted.  He  bought  meat,  and  a  loaf  of  bread,  candles, 
chips,  and  from  a  little  retail  yard  he  purchased  a  couple  of  hun- 
dredweights of  coals.  Some  money  yet  remained — all  destined 
for  them,  but  he  did  not  yet  know  how  best  to  spend  it.  Food, 
light,  and  warmth,  he  had  instantly  seen,  were  necessary ;  for 
luxuries  he  would  wait.  Wilson's  eyes  filled  with  tears  when  he 
saw  Barton  enter  with  his  purchases.  He  understood  it  all,  and 
longed  to  be  once  more  in  work,  that  he  might  help  in  some  of 
these  material  ways,  without  feeling  that  he  was  using  his  son's 
money.  But  though  l  silver  and  gold  he  had  none/  he  gave  heart- 
service  and  love-works  of  far  more  value.  Nor  was  John  Barton 
behind  in  these.  '  The  fever'  was  (as  it  usually  is  in  Manchester) 
of  a  low,  putrid,  typhoid  kind ;  brought  on  by  miserable  living, 
filthy  neighbourhood,  and  great  depression  of  mind  and  body.  It 
is  virulent,  malignant,  and  highly  infectious.  But  the  poor  are 
fatalists  with  regard  to  infection ;  and  well  for  them  it  is  so,  for 
in  their  crowded  dwellings  no  invalid  can  be  isolated.  Wilson 
asked  Barton  if  he  thought  he  should  catch  it,  and  was  laughed 
at  for  his  idea. 

"  The  two  men,  rough,  tender  nurses  as  they  were,  lighted  the 
fire,  which  smoked  and  puffed  into  the  room  as  if  it  did  not  know 
the  way  up  the  damp,  unused  chimney.  The  very  smoke  seemed 
purifying  and  healthy  in  the  thick  clammy  air.  The  children 
clamoured  again  for  bread ;  but  this  time  Barton  took  a  piece  first 
to  the  poor,  helpless,  hopeless  woman,  who  still  sat  by  the  side 
of  her  husband,  listening  to  his  anxious,  miserable  mutterings. 
She  took  the  bread,  when  it  was  put  into  her  hand,  and  broke  a 
bit,  but  could  not  eat.  She  was  past  hunger.  She  fell  down  on 
the  floor  with  a  heavy,  unresisting  bang.  The  men  looked  puzzled. 
'She's  wellnigh  clemmed,  (starved,}'  said  Barton.  'Folk  do  say 
one  mustn't  give  clemmed  people  much  to  eat ;  but,  bless  us,  she'll 
eat  naught.' 


110  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

'  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do/  said  Wilson,  I'll  take  these  two  big 
lads,  as  does  naught  but  fight,  home  to  my  missis's  for  to-night, 
and  I  will  get  a  jug  o'  tea.  Them  women  always  does  best  with 
tea  and  such  slop/ 

"So  Barton  was  now  left  alone  with  a  little  child,  crying,  when 
it  had  done  eating,  for  mammy,  with  a  fainting,  dead-like  woman, 
and  with  the  sick  man,  whose  mutterings  were  rising  up  to  screams 
and  shrieks  of  agonized  anxiety.  He  carried  the  woman  to  the 
fire,  and  chafed  her  hands.  He  looked  around  for  something  to 
raise  her  head.  There  was  literally  nothing  but  some  loose  bricks  : 
however,  those  he  got,  and  taking  off  his  coat,  he  covered  them 
with  it  as  well  as  he  could.  He  pulled  her  feet  to  the  fire,  which 
now  began  to  emit  some  faint  heat.  He  looked  round  for  water, 
but  the  poor  woman  had  been  too  weak  to  drag  herself  out  to  the 
distant  pump,  and  water  there  was  none.  He  snatched  the  child, 
and  ran  up  the  area  steps  to  the  room  above,  and  borrowed  their 
only  saucepan  with  some  water  in  it.  Then  he  began,  with  the 
useful  skill  of  a  working  man,  to  make  some,  gruel ;  and,  when  it 
was  hastily  made,  he  seized  a  battered  iron  table-spoon,  kept 
when  many  other  little  things  had  been  sold  in  a  lot,  in  order  to 
feed  baby,  and  with  it  he  forced  one  or  two  drops  between  her 
clenched  teeth.  The  mouth  opened  mechanically  to  receive  more, 
and  gradually  she  revived.  She  sat  up  and  looked  round ;  and, 
recollecting  all,  fell  down  again  in  weak  and  passive  despair. 
Her  little  child  crawled  to  her,  and  wiped  with  its  fingers  the 
thick-coming  tears  which  she  now  had  strength  to  weep.  It  was 
now  high  time  to  attend  to  the  man.  He  lay  on  straw,  so  damp 
and  mouldy  no  dog  would  have  chosen  it  in  preference  to  flags ; 
over  it  was  a  piece  of  sacking,  coming  next  to  his  worn  skeleton 
of  a  body ;  above  him  was  mustered  every  article  of  clothing  that 
could  be  spared  by  mother  or  children  this  bitter  weather ;  and, 
in  addition  to  his  own,  these  might  have  given  as  much  warmth 
as  one  blanket,  could  they  have  been  kept  on  him  ;  but  as  he  rest- 
lessly tossed  to  and  fro,  they  fell  off,  and  left  him  shivering  in  spite 
of  the  burning  heat  of  his  skin.  Every  now  and  then  he  started 
up  in  his  naked  madness,  looking  like  the  prophet  of  wo  in  tl  j 
fearful  plague-picture ;  but  he  soon  fell  again  in  exhaustion,  and 


OF   ENGLAND.  Ill 

Barton  found  he  must  be  closely  watched,  lest  in  these  falls  he 
should  injure  himself  against  the  hard  brick  floor.  Pie  was  thank- 
ful when  Wilson  reappeared,  carrying  in  both  hands  a  jug  of 
steaming  tea,  intended  for  the  poor  wife ;  but  when  the  delirious 
husband  saw  drink,  he  snatched  at  it  with  animal  instinct,  with 
a  selfishness  he  had  never  shown  in  health. 

"  Then  the  two  men  consulted  together.  It  seemed  decided  with- 
out a  word  being  spoken  on  the  subject,  that  both  should  spend 
the  night  with  the  forlorn  couple ;  that  was  settled.  But  could 
no  doctor  be  had  ?  In  all  probability,  no.  The  next  day  an  in- 
firmary order  might  be  begged ;  but  meanwhile  the  only  medical 
advice  they  could  have  must  be  from  a  druggist's.  So  Barton, 
being  the  moneyed  man,  set  out  to  find  a  shop  in  London  Road."" 

"He  reached  a  druggist's  shop,  and  entered.  The  druggist, 
whose  smooth  manners  seemed  to  have  been  salved  over  with  his 
own  spermaceti,  listened  attentively  to  Barton's  description  of 
Davenport's  illness,  concluded  it  was  typhus  fever,  very  prevalent 
in  that  neighbourhood,  and  proceeded  to  make  up  a  bottle  of  me- 
dicine— sweet  spirits  of  nitre,  or  some  such  innocent  potion — very 
good  for  slight  colds,  but  utterly  powerless  to  stop  for  an  instant 
the  raging  fever  of  the  poor  man  it  was  intended  to  relieve.  He 
recommended  the  same  course  they  had  previously  determined  to 
adopt,  applying  the  next  morning  for  an  infirmary  order;  and 
Barton  left  the  shop  with  comfortable  faith  in  the  physic  given, 
him ;  for  men  of  his  class,  if  they  believe  in  physio  at  all,  believe 
that  every  description  is  equally  efficacious. 

"  Meanwhile  Wilson  had  done  what  he  could  at  Davenport's 
home.  He  had  soothed  and  covered  the  man  many  a  time ;  he 
had  fed  and  hushed  the  little  child,  and  spoken  tenderly  to  the 
woman,  who  lay  still  in  her  weakness  and  her  weariness.  He 
had  opened  a  door,  bat  only  for  an  instant ;  it  led  into  a  back 
cellar,  with  a  grating  instead  of  a  window,  down  which  dropped 
the  moisture  from  pigstyes.,  and  worse  abominations.  It  was  not 
paved ;  the  floor  was  one  mass  of  bad-smelling  mud.  It  had  never 
been  used,  for  there  was  not  an  article  of  furniture  in  it;  nor 
could  a  human  being,  much  less  a  pig,  have  lived  there  many 
days*  Yet  the  'back  apartment ;  made  a  difference  in  the  rent, 


112  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

The  Davenports  paid  threepence  more  for  having  two  rooms. 
When  he  turned  round  again,  he  saw  the  woman  suckling  the 
child  from  her  dry,  withered  breast. 

"  '  Surely  the  lad  is  weaned !'  exclaimed  he,  in  surprise.  'Why, 
how  old  is  he  ?' 

"'  Going  on  two  year/  she  faintly  answered.  '  But,  oh !  it  keeps 
him  quiet  when  I've  naught  else  to  gi'  him,  and  he'll  get  a  bit  of 
sleep  lying  there,  if  he's  getten  naught  beside.  We  han  done  our 
best  to  gi'  the  childer  food,  howe'er  we  pinched  ourselves/ 

"'Han  ye  had  no  money  fra  th'  town.?' 

"'No;  my  master  is  Buckinghamshire  born,  and  he's  feared 
the  town  would  send  him  back  to  his  parish,  if  he  went  to  the 
board ;  so  we've  just  borne  on  in  hope  o'  better  times.  But  I 
think  they'll  never  come  in  my  day ;'  and  the  poor  woman  began 
her  weak,  high-pitched  cry  again. 

"'Here,  sup  this  drop  o'  gruel,  and  then  try  and  get  a  bit  o' 
sleep.  John  and  I'll  watch  by  your  master  to-night.' 

"  '  God's  blessing  be  on  you !' 

"  She  finished  the  gruel,  and  fell  into  a  dead  sleep.  Wilson 
covered  her  with  his  coat  as  well  as  he  could,  and  tried  to  move 
lightly  for  fear  of  disturbing  her ;  but  there  need  have  been  no 
such  dread,  for  her  sleep  was  profound  and  heavy  with  exhaus- 
tion. Once  only  she  roused  to  pull  the  coat  round  her  little  child. 

"  And  now,  all  Wilson's  care,  and  Barton's  to  boot,  was  wanted 
to  restrain  the  wild,  mad  agony  of  the  fevered  man.  He  started 
up,  he  yelled,  he  seemed  infuriated  by  overwhelming  anxiety. 
He  cursed  and  swore,  which  surprised  Wilson,  who  knew  his  piety 
in  health,  and  who  did  not  know  the  unbridled  tongue  of  delirium. 
At  length  he  seemed  exhausted,  and  fell  asleep ;  and  Barton  and 
Wilson  drew  near  the  fire,  and  talked  together  in  whispers.  They 
sat  on  the  floor,  for  chairs  there  were  none ;  the  sole  table  was  an 
old  tub  turned  upside  down.  They  put  out  the  candle  and  con- 
versed by  the  flickering  fire-light. 

"'Han  yo  known  this  chap  long?'  asked  Barton. 

" '  Better  nor  three  year.  He's  worked  wi'  Carsons  that  long, 
and  were  always  a  steady,  civil-spoken  fellow,  though,  as  I  said 
afore,  somewhat  of  a  Methodee.  I  wish  I'd  gotten  a  letter  he  sent 


OF   ENGLAND.  113 

to  his  missis,  a  week  or  two  agone,  when  he  were  on  tramp  for 
work.  It  did  my  heart  good  to  read  it ;  for  yo  see,  I  were  a  bit 
grumbling  mysel ;  it  seemed  hard  to  be  sponging  on  Jem,  and 
taking  a'  his  flesh-meat  money  to  buy  bread  for  me  and  them  as 
I  ought  to  be  keeping.  But,  yo  know,  though  I  can  earn  naught, 
I  mun  eat  summut.  Well,  as  I  telled  ye,  I  were  grumbling, 
when  she/  indicating  the  sleeping  woman  by  a  nod,  'brought  me 
Ben's  letter,  for  she  could  na  read  hersel.  It  were  as  good  as 
Bible-words ;  ne'er  a  word  o'  repining ;  a'  about  God  being  our 
father,  and  that  we  mun  bear  patiently  whatever  he  sends/ 

"  '  Don  ye  think  he's  th'  masters'  father,  too  ?  I'd  be  loth  to 
have  'em  for  brothers.' 

" '  Eh,  John !  donna  talk  so ;  sure  there's  many  and  many  a 
master  as  good  nor  better  than  us.' 

'* '  If  you  think  so,  tell  me  this.  How  comes  it  they're  rich,  and 
we're  poor  ?  I'd  like  to  know  that.  Han  they  done  as  they'd  be 
done  by  for  us  ?' 

"  But  Wilson  was  no  arguer — no  speechifier,  as  he  would  have 
called  it.  So  Barton,  seeing  he  was  likely  to  have  his  own  way, 
went  on — 

"'  You'll  say,  at  least  many  a  one  does,  they'n  getten  capital, 
an'  we'n  getten  none.  I  say,  our  labour's  our  capital,  and  we 
ought  to  draw  interest  on  that.  They  get  interest  on  their 
capital  somehow  a'  this  time,  while  ourn  is  lying  idle,  else  how 
could  they  all  live  as  they  do  ?  Besides,  there's  many  on  'em  as 
had  naught  to  begin  wi' ;  there's  Carsons,  and  Buncombes,  and 
Mengies,  and  many  another  as  corned  into  Manchester  with 
clothes  to  their  backs,  and  that  were  all,  and  now  they're  worth 
their  tens  of  thousands,  a'  gotten  out  of  our  labour ;  why  the  very 
land  as  fetched  but  sixty  pound  twenty  years  agone  is  now  worth 
six  hundred,  and  that,  too,  is  owing  to  our  labour ;  but  look  at  yo, 
and  see  me,  and  poor  Davenport  yonder.  Whatten  better  are  we? 
They'n  screwed  us  down  to  th'  lowest  peg,  in  order  to  make  their 
great  big  fortunes,  and  build  their  great  big  houses,  and  we — why, 
we're  just  clemming,  many  and  many  of  us.  Can  you  say  there's 
naught  wrong  in  this  2' " 


114  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

These  poor  fellows,  according  to  the  story,  took  care 
of  Davenport  till  he  died  in  that  loathsome  cellar,  and 
then  had  him  decently  buried.  They  knew  not  how 
soon  his  fate  would  overtake  them,  and  they  would  then 
Want  friends.  In  the  mean  time,  while  disease  and 
starvation  were  doing  their  work  among  the  poor  ope- 
ratives, their  masters  were  lolling  on  sofas,  and,  in  the 
recreations  of  an  evening,  spending  enough  to  relieve  a 
hundred  families.  Perhaps,  also,  the  masters'  wives 
were  concocting  petitions  on  the  subject  of  negro- 
slavery — that  kind  of  philanthropy  costing  very  little 
money  or  self-sacrifice. 

It  may  be  said  that  the  story  of  "  Mary  Barton"  is  a 
fiction  ;  but  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  it  is  the  work 
of  an  English  writer,  and  that  its  scenes  are  professedly 
drawn  from  the  existing  realities  of  life  in  Manchester, 
where  the  author  resided.  In  the  same  work,  we  find 
an  account  of  an  historical  affair,  which  is  important  in 
this  connection,  as  showing  how  the  wail  of  the  oppress- 
ed is  treated  by  the  British  aristocracy : — 

"  For  three  years  past,  trade  had  been  getting  worse  and  worse, 
and  the  price  of  provisions  higher  and  higher.  This  disparity . 
between  the  amount  of  the  earnings  of  the  working  classes,  and 
the  price  of  their  food,  occasioned,  in  more  cases  than  could  well 
be  imagined,  disease  and  death.  "Whole  families  went  through  a 
gradual  starvation.  They  only  wanted  a  Dante  to  record  their 
sufferings.  And  yet  even  his  words  would  fall  short  of  the  awful 
truth ;  they  could  only  present  an  outline  of  the  tremendous  facts 
of  the  destitution  that  surrounded  thousands  upon  thousands  in 
the  terrible  years  1839, 1840,  and  1841.  Even  philanthropists, 


OF   ENGLAND.  115 

who  had  studied  the  subject,  were  forced  to  own  themselves  per- 
plexed in  the  endeavour  to  ascertain  the  real  causes  of  the 
misery ;  the  whole  matter  was  of  so  complicated  a  nature,  that 
it  became  next  to  impossible  to  understand  it  thoroughly.  It 
need  excite  no  surprise,  then,  to  learn  that  a  bad  feeling  between 
working  men  and  the  upper  classes  became  very  strong  in  this 
season  of  privation.  The  indigence  and  sufferings  of  the  opera- 
tives induced  a  suspicion  in  the  minds  of  many  of  them,  that 
their  legislators,  their  managers,  their  employers,  and  even  their 
ministers  of  religion,  were,  in  general,  their  oppressors  and 
enemies ;  and  were  in  league  for  their  prostration  and  enthral- 
ment.  The  most  deplorable  and  enduring  evil  that  arose  out  of 
the  period  of  commercial  depression  to  which  I  refer,  was  this 
feeling  of  alienation  between  the  different  classes  of  society.  It 
is  so  impossible  to  describe,  or  even  faintly  to  picture,  the  state 
of  distress  which  prevailed  in  the  town  at  that  time,  that  I  will 
not  attempt  it;  and  yet  I  think  again  that  surely,  in  a  Christian 
land,  it  was  not  known  even  so  feebly  as  words  could  tell  it,  or 
the  more  happy  and  fortunate  would  have  thronged  with  their 
sympathy  and  their  aid.  In  many  instances  the  sufferers  wept 
first,  and  then  they  cursed.  Their  vindictive  feelings  exhibited 
themselves  in  rabid  politics.  And  when  I  hear,  as  I  have  heard, 
of  the  sufferings  and  privations  of  the  poor,  of  provision-shops 
where  ha'porths  of  tea,  sugar,  butter,  and  even  flour,  were  sold 
to  accommodate  the  indigent — of  parents  sitting  in  their  clothes 
Iby  the  fire-side  during  the  whole  night,  for  seven  weeks  together, 
in  order  that  their  only  bed  and  bedding  might  be  reserved  for 
the  use  of  their  large  family — of  others  sleeping  upon  the  cold 
hearth-stone  for  weeks  in  succession,  without  adequate  means  of 
providing  themselves  with  food  or  fuel  (and  this  in  the  depth  of 
winter) — of  others  being  compelled  to  fast  for  days  together,  un- 
cheered  by  any  hope  of  better  fortune,  living,  moreover,  or  rather 
starving,  in  a  crowded  garret  or  damp  cellar,  and  gradually  sink- 
ing under  the  pressure  of  want  and  despair  into  a  premature 
grave  ;  and  when  this  has  been  confirmed  by  the  evidence  of 
their  care-worn  looks,  their  excited  feelings,  and  their  deso- 
late homes — can  I  wonder  that  many  of  them,  in  such  times  of 


116  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

misery  and  destitution,  spoke  and  acted  with  ferocious  precipita- 
tion 1 

"An  idea  was  now  springing  up  among  the  operatives,  that 
originated  with  the  Chartists,  but  which  came  at  last  to  be  che- 
rished as  a  darling  child  by  many  and  many  a  one.  They  could 
not  believe  that  government  knew  of  their  misery ;  they  rather 
chose  to  think  it  possible  that  men  could  voluntarily  assume  the 
office  of  legislators  for  a  nation,  ignorant  of  its  real  state ;  as  who 
should  make  domestic  rules  for  the  pretty  behaviour  of  children, 
without  caring  to  know  that  these  children  had  been  kept  for 
days  without  food.  Besides,  the  starving  multitudes  had  heard 
that  the  very  existence  of  their  distress  had  been  denied  in  Par- 
liament ;  and  though  they  felt  this  strange  and  inexplicable,  yet 
the  idea  that  their  misery  had  still  to  be  revealed  in  all  its 
depths,  and  that  then  some  remedy  would  be  found,  soothed  their 
aching  hearts,  and  kept  down  their  rising  fury. 

"  So  a  petition  was  framed,  and  signed  by  thousands  in  the 
bright  spring  days  of  1839,  imploring  Parliament  to  hear  wit- 
nesses who  could  testify  to  the  unparalleled  destitution  of  the 
manufacturing  districts.  Nottingham,  Sheffield,  Glasgow,  Man- 
chester, and  many  other  towns,  were  busy  appointing  delegates 
to  convey  this  petition,  who  might  speak,  not  merely  of  what 
they  had  seen  and  had  heard,  but  from  what  they  had  borne  and 
Buffered.  Life-worn,  gaunt,  anxious,  hunger-stamped  men  were 
those  delegates." 

The  delegates  went  in  a  body  to  London,  and  applied 
at  the  Parliament  House  for  permission  to  present 
their  petition  upon  the  subject  nearest  their  hearts — 
the  question  of  life  and  death.  They  were  haughtily 
denied  a  hearing.  The  assemblage  of  the  "best  gen- 
tlemen in  Europe,"  were,  perhaps,  discussing  the  best 
means  of  beautifying  their  parks  and  extending  their 
estates.  What  had  these  rose-pink  legislators  to  do 
with  the  miseries  of  the  base-born  rabble — the  soil-serfs 


OF   ENGLAND.  117 

of  their  chivalric  Norman  ancestors?  The  delegates 
returned  in  despair  to  their  homes,  to  meet  their 
starving  relatives  and  friends,  and  tell  them  there  was 
not  a  ray  of  hope.  In  France  such  a  rejection  of  a 
humble  petition  from  breadless  working-men  would 
have  been  followed  by  a  revolution.  In  Great  Britain 
the  labourers  seem  to  have  the  inborn  submission  of 
hereditary  slaves.  Though  they  feel  the  iron  heel  of 
the  aristocracy  upon  their  necks,  and  see  their  families 
starving  around  them,  they  delay,  and  still  delay, 
taking  that  highway  to  freedom — manly  and  united 
rebellion. 

The  workmen  employed  in  the  factories  are  sub- 
jected to  the  cruel  treatment  of  overlookers,  who  have 
the  power  of  masters,  and  use  it  as  tyrants.  If  an 
operative  does  not  obey  an  order,  he  is  not  merely 
reproved,  but  kicked  and  beaten  as  a  slave.  He  dare 
not  resent,  for  if  he  did  he  would  be  turned  forth  to 
starve.  Such  being  the  system  under  which  he  works, 
the  operative  has  the  look  and  air  of  a  degraded  Helot. 
Most  of  them  are  unhealthy,  destitute  of  spirit,  and 
enfeebled  by  toil"  and  privation.  The  hand-loom 
weavers,  who  are  numerous  in  some  districts,  are  the 
most  miserable  of  the  labourers,  being  hardly  able  to 
earn  scant  food  and  filthy  shelter. 

The  hundreds  of  thousands  of  tender  age  employed  in 
all  the  various  branches  of  manufacture  are  in  all 
cases  the  children  of  the  poor.  When  the  father  goes 


118  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

to  the  workhouse  he  has  no  longer  any  control  over  his 
children.  They  are  at  the  mercy  of  the  parish,  and 
may  be  separated,  apprenticed  to  all  sorts  of  masters, 
and  treated,  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  as  slaves. 
The  invention  of  labour-saving  machinery  has  brought 
the  services  of  children  into  great  demand  in  the  manu- 
facturing towns.  They  may  be  bought  at  the  work- 
house at  a  cheap  rate,  and  then  they  must  trust  to  God 
alone  for  their  future  welfare.  There  is  scarcely  an 
instance  in  which  the  law  ever  interferes  for  their  pro- 
tection. The  masters  and  overlookers  are  allowed  to 
beat  their  younger  operatives  with  impunity. 

The  following  evidence  contains  instances  of  a  treat- 
ment totally  barbarous,  and  such  are  very  frequent, 
according  to  the  report  of  the  commissioners  :  — 

"  When  she  was  a  child,  too  little  to  put  on  her  ain  claithes, 
the  overlooker  used  to  beat  her  till  she  screamed  again.  Gets 
many  a  good  beating  and  swearing.  They  are  all  very  ill-used. 
The  overseer  carries  a  strap.  Has  been  licked  four  or  five 
times.  The  boys  are  often  severely  strapped ;  the  girls  some- 
times get  a  clout.  The  mothers  often  complain  of  this.  Has 
seen  the  boys  have  black  and  blue  marks  after  strapping.  Three 
weeks  ago  the  overseer  struck  him  in  the^ye  with  his  clenched 
fist,  so  as  to  force  him  to  be  absent  two  days.  Another  overseer 
used  to  beat  him  with  his  fist,  striking  him  so  that  his  arm  was 
black  and  blue.  Has  often  seen  the  workers  beat  cruelly.  Has 
seen  the  girls  strapped ;  but  the  boys  were  beat  so  that  they  fell 
to  the  floor  in  the  course  of  the  beating  with  a  rope  with  four 
tails,  called  a  cat.  Has  seen  the  boys  black  and  blue,  crying  for 
mercy. 

"The  other  night  a  little  girl  came  home  cruelly  beaten; 


OF   ENGLAND.  119 

wished  to  go  before  a  magistrate,  but  was  advised  not.  That 
man  is  always  strapping  the  children.  The  boys  are  badly  used. 
They  are  whipped  with  a  strap  till  they  cry  out  and  shed  tears  ; 
has  seen  the  managers  kick  and  strike  them.  Has  suffered  much 
from  the  slubber s'  ill  treatment.  It  is  the  practice  of  the  slub- 
bers to  go  out  and  amuse  themselves  for  an  hour  or  so,  and  then 
make  up  their  work  in  the  same  time,  which  is  a  great  fatigue  to 
the  piecers,  keeping  them  '  on  the  run'  for  an  hour  and  a  half 
together,  besides  kicking  and  beating  them  for  doing  it  badly, 
when  they  were  so  much  tired.  The  slubbers  are  all  brutes  to 
the  children ;  they  get  intoxicated,  and  then  kick  them  about ; 
they  are  all  alike.  Never  complained  to  the  master ;  did  once  to 
his  mother,  and  she  gave  him  a  halfpenny  not  to  mind  it,  to  go 
back  to  work  like  a  good  boy.  Sometimes  he  used  to  be  surly, 
and  would  not  go,  and  then  she  always  had  that  tale  about  the 
halfpenny ;  sometimes  he  got  the  halfpenny,  and  sometimes  not. 

"  He  has  seen  the  other  children  beaten.  The  little  girls  stand- 
ing at  the  drawing-head.  They  would  run  home  and  fetch  their 
mothers  sometimes. 

"  Hears  the  spinners  swear  very  bad  at  their  piecers,  and  sees 
'em  lick  'em  sometimes ;  some  licks  'em  with  a  strap,  some  licks 
;em  with  hand ;  some  straps  is  as  long  as  your  arm,  some  is  very 
thick,  and  some  thin;  don't  know  where  they  get  the  straps. 
There  is  an  overlooker  in  the  room ;  he  very  seldom  comes  in ; 
they  won't  allow  'em  if  they  knows  of  it.  (Child  volunteered 
the  last  observation.  Asked  how  she  knew  that  the  overlookers 
would  not  allow  the  spinners  to  lick  the  little  hands  ;  answers, 
'Because  I've  heard  'em  say  so.')  Girls  cry  when  struck 
with  straps ;  only  one  girl  struck  yesterday ;  they  very  seldom 
strike  'em. 

"  There  is  an  overlooker  in  the  room,  who  is  a  man.  The 
doffer  always  scolds  her  when  she  is  idle,  not  the  overlooker  ;  the 
doffer  is  a  girl.  Sometimes  sees  her  hit  the  little  hands ;  always 
hits  them  with  her  hands.  Sometimes  the  overlooker  hits  the 
little  hands  ;  always  with  her  hand  when  she  does.  Her  mother 
is  a  throstle-spinner,  in  her  room.  The  overseer  scolds  the  little 
hands ;  says  he'll  bag  'em ;  sometimes  swears  at  'em.  Some- 


120  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

times  overseer  beats  a  *  little  hand ;'  when  he  does  it,  it  is  always 
with  his  open  hand ;  it  is  not  so  very  hard ;  sometimes  on  the 
face,  sometimes  on  the  back.  He  never  beats  her.  Some  on  'em 
cries  when  they  are  beat,  some  doesn't.  He  beats  very  seldom ; 
didn't  beat  any  yesterday,  nor  last  week,  nor  week  before; 
doesn't  know  how  long  it  is  ago  since  she  has  seen  him  strike  a 
girl.  If  our  little  helper  gets  careless  we  may  have  occasion  to 
correct  her  a  bit.  Some  uses  'em  very  bad ;  beats  'em  ;  but  only 
with  the  hand ;  and  pulls  their  ears.  Some  cry,  but  not  often. 
Ours  is  a  good  overlooker,  but  has  heard  overlookers  curse  very 
bad.  The  women  weavers  themselves  curse.  Has  never  cursed 
herself.  Can  say  so  honestly  from  her  heart. 

"  Drawers  are  entirely  under  the  control  of  the  weavers,  said  a 
master ;  they  must  obey  their  employer ;  if  they  do  not  they  are 
sometimes  beat  and  sometimes  discharged.  I  chastise  them  occa- 
sionally with  alight  whip;  do  not  allow  it  by  my  workmen ;  some- 
times they  are  punished  with  a  fool's-cap,  sometimes  with  a  cane, 
but  not  severely/' 

"  William  M.  Beath,  of  Mr.  Owen's  New  Lanark  Mills,  de- 
posed: '  Thinks  things  improved  under  Mr.  Owen's  management. 
Recollects  seeing  children  beaten  very  severe  at  times.  He  him- 
self has  been  beaten  very  sore,  so  bad  that  his  head  was  not  in 
its  useful  state  for  several  days.  Recollects,  in  particular,  one 
boy — James  Barry — who  was  very  unfond  of  working  in  the  mill, 
who  was  always  beaten  to  his  work  by  his  father,  with  his  hands 
and  feet ;  the  boy  was  then  beaten  with  a  strap  by  the  overseers, 
for  being  too  late,  and  not  being  willing  to  come.  Has  seen  him 
so  beaten  by  Robert  Shirley,  William  Watson,  and  Robert  Sim. 
The  boy,  James  Barry,  never  came  properly  to  manhood.  It  was 
always  conjectured  that  he  had  too  many  beatings.  He  was  the 
cruellest  beat  boy  ever  I  saw  there.  There  was  a  boy,  whose 
name  he  does  not  recollect,  and  while  he  (W.  M.B.)  was  working  as 
a  weaver  at  Lanark,  having  left  the  mill,  and  his  death  was  at- 
tributed by  many  to  a  kick  in  the  groin  from  Peter  Gall,  an  over- 
seer. Does  not  recollect  whether  the  ill  usage  of  the  children 
above  alluded  to  took  place  in  Mr.  Owen's  time,  or  before  he 
came  >  but  there  was  certainly  a  great  improvement,  in  many  re- 


OF   ENGLAND.  121 

spects,  under  his  management,  particularly  in  cleanliness,  shorter 
hours,  and  the  establishment  of  schools.  Has  been  three  years 
employed  in  his  present  situation.  Has  two  children  of  his  own 
in  the  mill.  Does  not  believe  (and  he  has  every  opportunity  of 
knowing)  that  the  children  of  this  mill  have  been  tampered  with 
by  anybody,  with  a  view  to  their  testimony  before  the  com- 
missioners, and  that  they  are  not  afraid  to  tell  the  truth.  He 
himself  would,  on  account  of  his  children,  like  a  little  shorter 
hours  and  a  little  less  wages ;  they  would  then  have  a  better 
opportunity  of  attending  a  night-school.' 

"Henry  Dunn,  aged  twenty-seven,  a  spinner:  'Has  been  five 
years  on  this  work.  Went  at  eight  years  of  age  to  Mr.  Dunn's 
mill  at  Duntochar;  that  was  a  country  situation,  and  much 
healthier  than  factories  situated  in  town.  They  worked  then 
from  six  to  eight ;  twelve  hours  and  a  half  for  work,  and  one 
hour  and  a  half  for  meals.  Liked  that  mill  as  well  as  any  he 
ever  was  in.  Great  attention  was  paid  to  the  cleanliness  and 
comfort  of  the  people.  The  wages  were  lower  there  at  that  time 
than  they  were  at  Glasgow.  After  leaving  Duntochar,  he  came 
into  town  to  see  Mr.  Humphrey's,  (now  Messrs.  Robert  Thomp- 
son,)  which  was  at  that  time  one  continued  scene  of  oppression. 
A  system  of  cruelty  prevailed  there  at  that  time,  which  was  con- 
fined almost  entirely  to  that  work.  The  wheels  were  very  small, 
and  young  men  and  women  of  the  ages  of  seventeen  and  eighteen 
•were  the  spinners.  There  was  a  tenter  to  every  flat,  and  he  was 
considered  as  a  sort  of  whipper-in,  to  force  the  children  to  extra 
exertion.  Has  seen  wounds  inflicted  upon  children  by  tenters, 
by  Alexander  Drysdale,  among  others,  with  a  belt  or  stick,  or 
the  first  thing  that  came  uppermost.  Saw  a  kick  given  by  the 
above-mentioned  Alexander  Drysdale,  which  broke  two  ribs  of  a 
little  boy.  Helped  to  carry  the  boy  down  to  a  surgeon.  The 
boy  had  been  guilty  of  some  very  trifling  offence,  such  as  calling 
names  to  the  next  boy.  But  the  whole  was  the  same;  all  the 
tenters  were  alike.  Never  saw  any  ill-treatment  of  the  children 
at  this  mill.  Mr.  Stevenson  is  a  very  fine  man.  The  machinery 
in  the  spinning  department  is  quite  well  boxed  in — it  could  not  be 
"better ;  but  the  cards  might  be  more  protected  with  great  advan- 

11  9 


122  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

tage.  It  is  very  hot  in  winter,  but  he  can't  tell  how  hot.  There 
is  no  thermometer/ 

"  Ellen  Terrier,  aged  thirteen  ;  carries  bobbins  :  *  Has  been 
three  years  in  this  mill.  AVas  one  year  before  in  another  mill  in 
this  town ;  doesn't  like  neither  of  them  very  well,  because  she 
was  always  very  tired  from  working  from  half-past  five  o'clock 
in  the  morning  until  half-past  seven,  with  only  two  intervals  of 
half  an  hour  each.  She  sometimes  falls  asleep  now.  She 
worked  formerly  in  the  lower  flat.  When  Charles  Kennedy  was 
the  overseer  he  licked  us  very  bad,  beat  our  heads  with  his  hand, 
and  kicked  us  very  bad  when  the  ends  were  down.  He  was  aye 
licking  them,  and  my  gademother  (stepmother)  has  two  or  three 
times  complained  to  Mr.  Shanks,  (senior,)  and  Mr.  S.  always  told 
him  about  it,  but  he  never  minded.  Does  not  know  what  he  left 
the  mill  for.  A  good  many  folks  went  away  from  this  mill  just 
for  Kennedy.  Can  read ;  cannot  write/ 

"  Mary  Scott,  aged  fourteen :  *  Has  been  here  two  years.  Was 
here  with  Charles  Kennedy.  When  he  has  seen  us  just  speaking 
to  one  another,  he  struck  us  with  his  hands  and  with  his  feet.  He 
beat  us  when  he  saw  any  of  the  ends  down.  Has  seen  him  strike 
Ellen  Terrier  (the  last  witness)  very  often,  just  with  his  hands ; 
and  has  seen  him  strike  Betty  Sutherland ;  can't  tell  how  often, 
"but  it  was  terrible  often/ 

"  Euphemia  Anderson,  aged  twenty :  '  Has  been  three  years  at 
this  mill ;  has  been  in  different  mills  since  she  was  seven  years 
old.  About  six  years  ago  she  was  taken  ill  with  pains  in  the 
legs,  and  remained  ill  for  three  years.  I  wasn't  able  to  stand. 
Thinks  it  was  the  standing  so  long  that  made  her  ill.  She  is  now 
again  quite  in  good  health,  except  that  she  is  sair-footed  some- 
times. They  have  seats  to  sit  down  upon.  When  the  work  is 
bad,  we  cannot  get  time  to  sit  down.  When  the  flax  is  good  we 
have  a  good  deal  of  time.  Has  never  seen  children  beat  by 
Charles  Kennedy,  but  has  heard  talk  of  it;  has  often  heard  them 
complain  of  him,  never  of  anybody  else.  Can  read;  cannot 
write.  Never  went  to  a  school;  never  had  muckle  time.  She 
would  give  up  some  of  her  wages  to  have  shorter  hours.  Her 
usual  dinner  is  broth  and  potatoes/ ;; 


OF   ENGLAND.  123 

The  next  evidence  is  particularly  valuable,  as  it 
came  from  a  person  who  had  left  the  factory  work ; 
and  having  an  independent  business,  he  may  be  pre- 
sumed to  have  spoken  without  fear  or  favour  : — 

"  William  Campbell,  aged  thirty-seven :  '  Is  a  grocer,  carrying 
on  business  in  Belfast.  "Was  bred  up  a  cotton-spinner.  Went 
first  as  a  piecer  to  his  father,  who  was  a  spinner  at  Mr.  Hussy's 
mill,  Graham  Square,  Glasgow,  and  afterward  to  several  mills  in 
this  place,  among  which  was  Mr.  John  McCrackan's,  where  he 
was,  altogether,  piecer  and  spinner  between  four  and  five  years, 
(1811-1818.)  There  was  a  regulation  at  that  time  there,  that 
every  hand  should  be  fined  if  five  minutes  too  late  at  any  work- 
ing hour  in  the  morning  and  after  meals — the  younger  5d.,  which 
amounted  to  the  whole  wages  of  some  of  the  lesser  ones;  the 
older  hands  were  fined  as  high  as  lOcZ.  The  treatment  of  the 
children  at  that  time  was  very  cruel.  Has  seen  Robert  Martin, 
the  manager,  continually  beating  the  children — with  his  hands 
generally,  sometimes  with  his  clenched  fist.  Has  often  seen  his 
sister  Jane,  then  about  fourteen,  struck  by  him ;  and  he  used  to 
pinch  her  ears  till  the  blood  came,  and  pull  her  hair.  The  faults 
were  usually  very  trifling.  If  on  coming  in  he  should  find  any 
girl  combing  her  hair,  that  was  an  offence  for  which  he  would 
beat  her  severely,  and  he  would  do  so  if  he  heard  them  talking 
to  one  another.  He  never  complained  of  the  ill-usage  of  his 
eister,  because  he  believed  if  he  did,  his  father  and  two  sisters, 
who  were  both  employed  in  the  mill,  would  have  been  immedi- 
ately dismissed.  A  complaint  was  made  by  the  father  of  a  little 
girl,  against  Martin,  for  beating  a  child.  Mr.  Ferrer,  the  police 
magistrate,  admonished  him.  He  was  a  hot-headed,  fiery  man, 
and  when  he  saw  the  least  fault,  or  what  he  conceived  to  be  a 
fault,  he  just  struck  them  at  once.  Does  not  recollect  any  child 
getting  a  lasting  injury  from  any  beating  here.  The  treatment 
of  the  children  at  the  mill  was  the  only  thing  which  could  be 
called  cruelty  which  he  had  witnessed.  One  great  hardship  to 
people  employed  in  the  factories  is  the  want  of  good  water, 


124  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

which  exists  in  most  of  them.  At  only  one  of  the  mills  which  he 
worked  at  was  there  water  such  as  could  be  drunk  brought  into 
the  flats,  and  that  was  Mr.  Holdsworth's  mill,  Anderson,  Glas- 
gow. From  what  he  recollects  of  his  own  and  his  sister's  feel- 
ings, he  considers  the  hours  which  were  then  and  are  still  com- 
monly occupied  in  actual  labour — viz.  twelve  hours  and  a  half 
per  day — longer  than  the  health  of  children  can  sustain,  and  also 
longer  than  will  admit  of  any  time  being  reserved  in  the  evening 
for  their  instruction/  " 

These  instances  of  steady,  systematic  cruelty,  in  the 
treatment  of  children,  go  far  beyond  any  thing  recorded 
of  slave-drivers  in  other  countries.  If  an  American 
overseer  was  to  whip  a  slave  to  death,  an  awful  groan 
would  express  the  horror  of  English  lords  and  ladies. 
But  in  the  factories  of  Great  Britain  we  have  helpless 
children  not  only  kicked  and  beaten,  but  liable  at  any 
moment  to  receive  a  mortal  wound  from  the  billy- 
roller  of  an  exasperated  slubber.  Here  is  more  evi- 
dence, which  we  cannot  think  will  flag  in  interest : — 

"John  Gibb,  eleven  years  old,  solemnly  sworn,  deposes,  'that 
he  has  been  about  three  years  a  piecer  in  one  of  the  spinning- 
rooms  ;  that  the  heat  and  confinement  makes  his  feet  sair,  and 
makes  him  sick  and  have  headaches,  and  he  often  has  a  stitch  in 
Jiis  side ;  that  he  is  now  muoh  paler  than  he  used  to  be ;  that  he 
receives  4s.  6<$.  a  week,  which  he  gives  to  his  mother ;  that  he  is 
very  desirous  of  short  hours,  that  he  might  go  to  school  more  than 
he  can  do  at  present ;  that  the  spinners  often  lick  him,  when  he* 
is  in  fault,  with  taws  of  leather.' 

"  Alexander  Wylie,  twent}^-six  years  old,  solemnly  sworn,  de- 
poses, *  that  he  is  a  spinner  in  one  of  the  spinning  departments ; 
that  most  of  the  spinners  keep  taws  to  preserve  their  authority, 
but  he  does  not ;  that  he  has  seen  them  pretty  severely  whipped, 


OF   ENGLAND.  125 

•when  they  were  in  fault ;  that  he  has  seen  piecers  beat  by  the 
overseers,  even  with  their  clenched  fists ;  that  he  has  seen  both 
boys  and  girls  so  treated;  that  he  has  seen  John  Ewan  beating 
his  little  piecers  severely,  even  within  these  few  weeks ;  that 
when  he  had  a  boy  as  a  piecer,  he  beat  him  even  more  severely 
than  the  girls ;  that  he  never  saw  a  thermometer  in  his  flat,  till 
to-day,  when,  in  consequence  of  a  bet,  the  heat  was  tried,  and  it 
was  found  to  be  72°,  but  that  they  are  spinning  coarser  cotton  in 
his  flat  than  in  some  of  the  other  flats,  where  greater  heat  is 
requisite/ 

"Bell  Sinclair,  thirteen  years  old,  solemnly  sworn,  deposes, 
'  that  she  has  been  about  four  years  in  the  same  flat  with  John 
Gibb,  a  preceding  witness ;  that  all  the  spinners  in  the  apart- 
ment keep  a  leather  strap,  or  taws,  with  which  to  punish  the 
piecers,  both  boys  and  girls — the  young  ones  chiefly  when  they 
are  negligent ;  that  she  has  been  often  punished  by  Francis  Gibb 
and  by  Robert  Clarke,  both  with  taws  and  with  their  hands,  and 
with  his  open  cuff;  that  he  has  licked  her  on  the  side  of  the  head 
and  on  her  back  with  his  hands,  and  with  the  strap  on  her  back 
and  arms ;  that  she  was  never  much  the  worse  of  the  beating, 
although  she  has  sometimes  cried  and  shed  tears  when  Gibb  or 
Clarke  was  hitting  her  sair/  Deposes  that  she  cannot  write. 

"Mary  Ann  Collins,  ten  years  old,  solemnly  sworn,  deposes, 
*  that  she  has  been  a  year  in  one  of  the  spinning-rooms  in  which 
John  Ewan  is  a  spinner ;  that  yesterday  he  gave  her  a  licking 
with  the  taws ;  that  all  the  spinners  keep  taws  except  Alexander 
Wylie ;  that  he  beat  her  once  before  till  she  grat ;  that  she  has 
sometimes  a  pain  in  her  breast,  and  was  absent  yesterday  on  that 
account/  Deposes  that  she  cannot  write. 

"Daniel  McGinty,  twenty-two  years  old,  solemnly  sworn, 
deposes,  'that  he  has  been  nearly  two  years  a  spinner  here; 
that  he  notices  the  piecers  frequently  complain  of  bad  health; 
that  he  was  a  petitioner  for  short  hours,  so  that  the  people  might 
have  more  time  for  their  education  as  well  as  for  health  ;  that  he 
had  a  strap  to  punish  the  children  when  they  were  in  fault,  but 
he  has  not  had  one  for  some  time,  and  the  straps  are  not  so  com- 
mon now  as  they  were  formerly ;  that  he  and  the  other  spinners 


126  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

prefer  giving  the  piecers  a  lick  on  the  side  of  the  head  with  their 
hands,  than  to  use  a  strap  at  all ;  that  he  has  seen  instances  of 
piecers  being  knocked  down  again  and  again,  by  a  blow  from  the 
hand,  in  other  mills,  but  not  since  he  came  to  this  one ;  that  he 
has  been  knocked  down  himself  in  Barrowfield  mill,  by  Lauchlin 
McWharry,  the  spinner  to  whom  he  was  a  piecer/ 

"Isabella  Stewart,  twenty-two  years  old,  solemnly  sworn,  de- 
poses, 'that  she  has  been  four  years  at  this  mill,  and  several 
years  at  other  mills ;  that  she  is  very  hoarse,  and  subject  to 
cough,  and  her  feet  and  ankles  swell  in  the  evening ;  that  she  is 
very  anxious  for  short  hours — thirteen  hours  are  real  lang  hours 
— but  she  has  nothing  else  to  find  fault  with;  that  Alexander 
Simpson  straps  the  young  workers,  and  even  gives  her,  or  any  of 
the  workers,  if  they  are  too  late,  a  lick  with  the  strap  across  the 
shoulders ;  that  he  has  done  this  within  a  week  or  two ;  that  he 
sometimes  gives  such  a  strap  as  to  hurt  her,  but  it  is  only  when 
he  is  in  a  passion/  Deposes  that  *  she  cannot  write.  In  the 
long  hours  they  canna  get  time  to  write  nor  to  do  nae  thing/ 

"  James  Patterson,  aged  sixty  years,  solemnly  sworn,  deposes, 
*  that  he  is  an  overseer  in  Messrs.  James  and  William  Brown's 
flax-spinning  mill,  at  Dundee,  and  has  been  in  their  employment 
for  about  seven  years;  that  he  was  previously  at  the  spinning 
mill  at  Glamis  for  twelve  years,  and  there  lost  his  right  hand 
and  arm,  caught  by  the  belt  of  the  wheels,  in  the  preparing 
floor ;  that  he  is  in  the  reeling  flat,  with  the  women,  who  are 
tired  and  sleepy ;  one  of  them — Margaret  Porter — at  present  in 
bed,  merely  from  standing  so  long  for  a  fortnight  past ;  that  it 
would  be  God's  blessing  for  every  one  to  have  shorter  hours ; 
that  he  has  been  about  forty  years  in  spinning-mills,  and  has 
seen  the  young  people  so  lashed  with  a  leather  belt  that  they 
could  hardly  stand :  that  at  Trollick,  a  mill  now  given  up,  he  has 
seen  them  lashed,  skin  naked,  by  the  manager,  James  Brown; 
that  at  Moniferth  he  has  seen  them  taken  out  of  bed,  when  they 
did  not  get  up  in  time,  and  lashed  with  horsewhips  to  their  work, 
carrying  their  clothes,  while  yet  naked,  to  the  work,  in  their  arms 
with  them/ 

"William  Hoe,  (examined  at  his  own  request:)  'I  am  consta- 


OF   ENGLAND,  127 

Tble  of  Radford.  I  was  in  the  army.  I  went  to  work  with  Mr. 
Wilson  in  1825.  I  had  been  with  Strutts,  at  Belper,  before 
that.  The  reason  I  left  was  this  :  I  was  told  the  overlooker  was 
leathering  one  of  my  boys.  I  had  two  sons  there.  The  over- 
looker was  Crooks.  I  found  him  strapping  the  boy,  and  I  struck 
him.  I  did  not  stop  to  ask  whether  the  boy  had  done  any  thing. 
I  had  heard  of  his  beating  him  before.  Smith  came  up,  and  said 
I  should  work  there  no  more  till  I  had  seen  Mr.  Wilson.  My 
answer  was,  that  neither  I  nor  mine  should  ever  work  more  for 
such  a  mill  as  that  was.  It  was  but  the  day  before  I  took  the 
boy  to  Smith,  to  show  him  that  he  had  no  time  to  take  his  vic- 
tuals till  he  came  out  at  twelve.  There  was  no  satisfaction,  but 
he  laughed  at  it.  That  was  the  reason  I  took  the  means  into  my 
own  hands.  Crooks  threatened  to  fetch  a  warrant  for  me,  but 
did  not.  I  told  him  the  master  durst  not  let  him.  The  boy  had 
been  doing  nothing,  only  could  not  keep  up  his  work  enough  to 
please  them.  I  left  the  mill,  and  took  away  my  sons.  One  was 
ten,  the  other  was  between  eight  and  nine.  They  went  there 
with  me.  The  youngest  was  not  much  past  eight  when  he  went. 
I  heard  no  more  of  it.  I  put  all  my  reasons  down  in  a  letter  to 
Mr.  Wilson,  but  I  heard  no  more  of  it.  Smith  was  sent  away 
afterward,  but  I  don't  know  why.  I  have  heard  it  was  for  dif- 
ferent ill-usages.  Crooks  is  there  now.  •  Hogg  was  the  overlooker 
in  my  room.  I  have  often  seen  him  beat  a  particular  boy  who 
was  feeding  cards.  One  day  he  pulled  his  ear  till  he  pulled  it 
out  of  the  socket,  and  it  bled  very  much.  I  mean  he  tore  the 
bottom  of  the  ear  from  the  head.  I  went  to  him  and  said,  if  that 
boy  was  mine  Fd  give  him  a  better  threshing  than  ever  he  had 
in  his  life.  It  was  reported  to  Mr.  S.  Wilson,  and  he  told  me  I 
had  better  mind  my  own  business,  and  not  meddle  with  the  over- 
lookers. I  never  heard  that  the  parents  complained.  Mr.  S.  Wil- 
son is  dead  now.  Mr.  W.  Wilson  said  to  me  afterward,  I  had 
made  myself  very  forward  in  meddling  with  the  overlookers'  busi- 
ness. I  was  to  have  come  into  the  warehouse  at  Nottingham,  but 
in  consequence  of  my  speaking  my  mind  I  lost  the  situation.  I 
never  had  any  complaint  about  my  work  while  I  was  there,  nor 
at  Mr.  Strutt's.  I  left  Mr.  Strutt's  in  hopes  to  better  myself.  I 


128  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

came  as  a  machine  smith.  I  went  back  to  Mr.  Strutt's,  at  Mil- 
ford,  after  I  left  Wilson,  for  two  years.  The  men  never  had  more 
than  twenty-five  minutes  for  their  dinner,  and  no  extra  pay  for 
stopping  there.  I  dressed  the  top  cards,  and  ground  them.  I 
never  heard  that  Mr.  Wilson  proposed  to  stop  the  breakfast  hour, 
and  that  the  hands  wished  to  go  on.  I  don't  think  such  a  thing 
could  be.  Whilst  I  worked  there  we  always  went  in  at  half-past 
five,  and  worked  till  nigh  half-past  seven.  We  were  never  paid 
a  farthing  overtime.  At  Strutt's,  if  ever  we  worked  an  hour 
overtime,  we  were  paid  an  hour  and  a  half.  I  have  seen  Smith 
take  the  girls  by  the  hair  with  one  hand,  and  slap  them  in 
the  face  with  the  other;  big  and  little,  it  made  no  difference. 
He  worked  there  many  years  before  he  was  turned  away.  He 
works  in  the  mill  again  now,  but  not  as  an  overlooker.  I 
never  knew  of  any  complaint  to  the  magistrate  against  Smith. 
I  had  125.  when  I  was  there  for  standing  wages.  It  was  about 
nine  in  the  morning  my  boy  was  beat.  I  think  it  was  in  the 
middle  of  the  day  the  boy's  ear  was  pulled.  The  work  was 
very  severe  there  while  it  lasted.  A  boy  generally  had  four 
breakers  and  finisher-cards  to  mind.  Such  a  boy  might  mind 
six  when  he  had  come  on  to  eleven  or  twelve ;  I  mean  finishers. 
A  boy  can  mind  from  three  to  four  breakers.  Any  way  they  had 
not  time  to  get  their  victuals.  I  don't  know  what  the  present 
state  of  the  mill  is  as  to  beating.  Men  will  not  complain  to  the 
magistrates  while  work  is  so  scarce,  and  they  are  liable  to  be 
turned  out ;  and  if  they  go  to  the  parish,  why  there  it  is,  '  Why, 
you  had  work,  why  did  you  not  stay  at  it  ?' " 

Robert  Blincoe,  a  small  manufacturer,  once  an  ap- 
prentice to  a  cotton  mill,  and  one  who  had  seen  and 
suffered  much  in  factories,  was  sworn  and  examined  by 
Dr.  Hawkins,  on  the  18th  of  May,  1833.  In  the  evi- 
dence,  which  follows,  it  will  be  noted  that  most  of  the 
sufferers  mentioned  were  parish  children,  without  pro- 
tectors of  any  kind  •— 


OF   ENGLAND.  129 

"'Do  you  know  where  you  were  born?'  'No;  I  only  know 
that  I  came  out  of  St.  Pancras  parish,  London.' 

"  '  Do  you  know  the  name  of  your  parents?'  'No.  I  used  to 
be  called,  when  young,  Robert  Saint ;  but  when  I  received  my 
indentures  I  was  called  Robert  Blincoe  ;  and  I  have  gone  by  that 
name  ever  since/ 

"  '  What  age  are  you  ?'  '  Near  upon  forty,  according  to  my 
indentures." 

" '  Have  you  no  other  means  of  knowing  your  age  but  what 
you  find  in  your  indentures  ?'  '  No,  I  go  by  that/ 

"  *  Do  you  work  at  a  cotton  mill  ?'  '  Not  now.  I  was  bound 
apprentice  to  a  cotton  mill  for  fourteen  years,  from  St.  Pancras 
parish ;  then  I  got  my  indentures.  I  worked  five  or  six  years 
after,  at  different  mills,  but  now  I  have  got  work  of  my  own.  I 
rent  power  from  a  mill  in  Stockport,  and  have  a  room  to  myself. 
My  business  is  a  sheet  wadding  manufacturer/ 

'"Why  did  you  leave  off  working  at  the  cotton  mills?'  'I 
got  tired  of  it,  the  system  is  so  bad;  and  I  had  saved  a  few 
pounds.  I  got  deformed  there;  my  knees  began  to  bend  in  when 
I  was  fifteen ;  you  see  how  they  are,  (showing  them.)  There  are 
many,  many  far  worse  than  me  at  Manchester/ 

"  '  Can  you  take  exercise  with  ease  ?'  '  A  very  little  makes 
me  sweat  in  walking.  I  have  not  the  strength  of  those  who  are 
straight/ 

"  '  Have  you  ever  been  in  a  hospital,  or  under  doctors,  for  your 
knees  or  legs  ?'  '  Never  in  a  hospital,  or  under  doctors  for  that, 
but  from  illness  from  overwork  I  have  been.  When  I  was  near 
Nottingham  there  were  about  eighty  of  us  together,  boys  and 
girls,  all  'prenticed  out  from  St.  Pancras  parish,  London,  to  cot- 
ton mills  ;  many  of  us  used  to  be  ill,  but  the  doctors  said  it  was 
only  for  want  of  kitchen  physic,  and  want  of  more  rest/ 

"  '  Had  you  any  accidents  from  machinery  ?'  '  No,  nothing  to 
signify  much  ;  I  have  not  myself,  but  I  saw,  on  the  6th  of  March 
last,  a  man  killed  by  machinery  at  Stockport ;  he  was  smashed, 
and  he  died  in  four  or  five  hours  ;  I  saw  him  while  the  accident 
took  place ;  he  was  joking  with  me  just  before ;  it  was  in  my  own 
room.  I  employ  a  poor  sore  cripple  under  me,  who  could  not 


130  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

easily  get  work  anywhere  else.  A  young  man  came  good-na- 
turedly from  another  room  to  help  my  cripple,  and  he  was  acci- 
dentally drawn  up  by  the  strap,  and  was  killed.  I  have  known 
many  such  accidents  take  place  in  the  course  of  my  life/ 

"  '  Eecollect  a  few.'  '  I  cannot  recollect  the  exact  number,  but 
I  have  known  several :  one  was  at  Lytton  Mill,  at  Derbyshire  ; 
another  was  the  master  of  a  factory  at  Staley  Bridge,  of  the 
name  of  Bailey.  Many  more  I  have  known  to  receive  injuries, 
such  as  the  loss  of  a  limb.  There  is  plenty  about  Stockport  that 
is  going  about  now  with  one  arm ;  they  cannot  work  in  the 
mills,  but  they  go  about  with  jackasses  and  such  like.  One  girl, 
Mary  Richards,  was  made  a  cripple,  and  remains  so  now,  when  I 
was  in  Lowdham  mill,  near  Nottingham.  She  was  lapped  up  by 
a  shaft  underneath  the  drawing-frame.  That  is  now  an  old- 
fashioned  machinery.' 

"  *  Have  you  any  children  ?'     '  Three/ 

"'Do  you  send  them  to  factories?'  'No.  I  would  rather 
have  them  transported.  In  the  first  place,  they  are  standing 
upon  one  leg,  lifting  up  one  knee  a  greater  part  of  the  day,  keep- 
ing the  ends  up  from  the  spindle.  I  consider  that  that  employ- 
ment makes  many  cripples ;  then  there  is  the  heat  and  dust ; 
then  there  are  so  many  different  forms  of  cruelty  used  upon 
them  ;  then  they  are  so  liable  to  have  their  fingers  catched,  and 
to  suffer  other  accidents  from  the  machinery ;  then  the  hours  is 
eo  long  that  I  have  seen  them  tumble  down  asleep  among  the 
straps  and  machinery,  and  so  get  cruelly  hurt ;  then  I  would  not 
have  a  child  of  mine  there,  because  there  is  not  good  morals; 
there  is  such  a  lot  of  them  together  that  they  learn  mischief/ 

"  '  What  do  you  do  with  your  children  ?'  '  My  eldest  of  thir- 
teen has  been  to  school,  and  can  teach  me.  She  now  stays  at 
home,  and  helps  her  mother  in  the  shop.  She  is  as  tall  as  me, 
and  is  very  heavy.  Very  different  from  what  she  would  have 
been  if  she  had  worked  in  a  factory.  My  two  youngest  go  to 
school,  and  are  both  healthy.  I  send  them  every  day  two  miles 
to  school.  I  know  from  experience  the  ills  of  confinement/ 

" '  What  are  the  forms  of  cruelty  that  you  spoke  of  just  now  as 
being  practised  upon  children  in  factories?'  'I  have  seen  the 


OF  ENGLAND.  181 

time  when  two  hand-vices,  of  a  pound  weight  each,  more  or  less, 
have  been  screwed  to  my  ears  at  Lytton  mill,  in  Derbyshire. 
Here  are  the  scars  still  remaining  behind  my  ears.  Then  three 
or  four  of  us  have  been  hung  at  once  to  a  cross-beam  above  the 
machinery,  hanging  by  our  hands,  without  shirts  or  stockings. 
Mind,  we  were  apprentices,  without  father  or  mother,  to  take  care 
of  us ;  I  don't  say  they  often  do  that  now.  Then,  we  used  to 
stand  up,  in  a  skip,  without  our  shirts,  and  be  beat  with  straps 
or  sticks ;  the  skip  was  to  prevent  us  from  running  away  from 
the  strap.' 

" '  Do  you  think  such  things  are  done  now  in  Manchester  ?' 
'No,  not  just  the  same  things ;  but  I  think  the  children  are  still 
beaten  by  overlookers ;  not  so  much,  however,  in  Manchester, 
where  justice  is  always  at  hand,  as  in  country  places.  Then  they 
used  to  tie  on  a  twenty-eight  pounds  weight,  (one  or  two  at  once,) 
according  to  our  size,  to  hang  down  on  our  backs,  with  no  shirts 
on.  I  have  had  them  myself.  Then  they  used  to  tie  one  leg  up 
to  the  faller,  while  the  hands  were  tied  behind.  I  have  a  book 
written  about  these  things,  describing  my  own  life  and  sufferings. 
I  will  send  it  to  you.'* 

" '  Do  the  masters  know  of  these  things,  or  were  they  done  only 
by  the  overlookers  ?'  '  The  masters  have  often  seen  them,  and 
have  been  assistants  in  them/ 

The  work  is  so  protracted  that  the  children  are  ex- 
hausted, and  many  become  crippled  from  standing  too 
long  in  unhealthy  positions : — 

"John  Wright,  steward  in  the  silk  factory  of  Messrs.  Brinsley 
and  Shatwell,  examined  by  Mr.  Tufnell. 

" '  What  are  the  effects  of  the  present  system  of  labour  ?'  *  From 
my  earliest  recollections,  I  have  found  the  effects  to  be  awfully 
detrimental  to  the  well-being  of  the  operative ;  I  have  observed, 
frequently,  children  carried  to  factories,  unable  to  walk,  and  that 

*  Enclosed  for  the  inspection  of  the  Central  Board.  It  is  entitled, 
"A  Memoir  of  Robert  Blincoe,  &c.,  Manchester."  J.  Doherty.  1852, 


132 


THE  WHITE   SLAVES 


entirely  owing  to  excessive  labour  and  confinement.  The  degra- 
dation of  the  work-people  baffles  all  description  ;  frequently  have 
two  of  my  sisters  been  obliged  to  be  assisted  to  the  factory  and 
home  again,  until  by  and  by  they  could  go  no  longer,  being  to- 
tally crippled  in  their  legs.  And  in  the  next  place,  I  remember 
some  ten  or  twelve  years  ago  working  in  one  of  the  largest  firms 
in  Macclesfield,  (Messrs.  Baker  and  Pearson,)  with  about  twenty- 
five  men,  where  they  were  scarce  one-half  fit  for  his  majesty's 
service.  Those  'that  are  straight  in  their  limbs  are  stunted  in 
their  growth,  much  inferior  to  their  fathers  in  point  of  strength. 
3dly.  Through  excessive  labour  and  confinement  there  is  often  a 
total  loss  of  appetite;  a  kind  of  languor  steals  over  the  whole 
frame,  enters  to  the  very  core,  saps  the  foundation  of  the  best  con- 
stitution, and  lays  our  strength  prostrate  in  the  dust.  In  the 
fourth  place,  by  protracted  labour  there  is  an  alarming  increase 
of  cripples  in  various  parts  of  this  town,  which  has  come  under 
my  own  observation  and  knowledge/  " 

Young  sufferers  gave  the  following  evidence  to  the 
commissioners : — 

" '  Many  a  time  has  been  so  fatigued  that  she  could  hardly  take 
off  her  clothes  at  night,  or  put  them  on  in  the  morning ;  her  mother 
would  be  raging  at  her,  because  when  she  sat  down  she  could 
not  get  up  again  through  the  house/  '  Looks  on  the  long  hours 
as  a  great  bondage/  '  Thinks  they  are  not  much  better  than  the 
Israelites  in  Egypt,  and  their  life  is  no  pleasure  to  them/  '  When 
a  child,  was  so  tired  that  she  could  seldom  eat  her  supper,  and 
never  awoke  of  herself/ — *  Are  the  hours  to  be  shortened  ?'  earn- 
estly demanded  one  of  these  girls  of  the  commissioner  who  was 
examining  her,  'for  they  are  too  long/" 

The  truth  of  the  account  given  by  the  children  of 
the  fatigue  they  experience  by  the  ordinary  labour  of 
the  factory  is  confirmed  by  the  testimony  of  their 
parents.  In  general,  the  representation  made  by  pa- 
rents is  like  the  following: — 


OF   ENGLAND.  133 

" '  Her  children  come  home  so  tired  and  worn  out  they  can 
hardly  eat  their  supper/  *  Has  often  seen  his  daughter  come 
home  in  the  evening  so  fatigued  that  she  would  go  to  bed  supper- 
less/  *  Has  seen  the  young  workers  absolutely  oppressed,  and 
unable  to  sit  down  or  rise  up;  this  has  happened  to  his  own 
children/ 

These  statements  are  confirmed  by  the  evidence  of 
the  adult  operatives.  The  depositions  of  the  witnesses 
of  this  class  are  to  the  effect,  that  "  the  younger  workers 
are  greatly  fatigued;"  that  "children  are  often  very 
severe  (unwilling)  in  the  mornings  ;"  that  "  children  are 
quite  tired  out;"  that  "the  long  hours  exhaust  the 
workers,  especially  the  young  ones,  to  such  a  degree 
that  they  can  hardly  walk  home;"  that  "the  young 
workers  are  absolutely  oppressed,  and  so  tired  as  to  be 
unable  to  sit  down  or  rise  up;"  that  "younger  workers 
are  so  tired  they  often  cannot  raise  their  hands  to  their 
head;"  that  "all  the  children  are  very  keen  for  short 
hours,  thinking  them  now  such  bondage  that  they  might 
as  well  be  in  a  prison ;"  that  "the  children,  when  engaged 
in  their  regular  work,  are  often  exhausted  beyond  what 
can  be  expressed;"  that  "the  sufferings  of  the  children 
absolutely  require  that  the  hours  should  be  shortened." 

The  depositions  of  the  overlookers  are  to  the  same 
effect,  namely,  that  "  though  the  children  may  not  com- 
plain, yet  that  they  seem  tired  and  sleepy,  and  happy 
to  get  out  of  doors  to  play  themselves.  That,  "  the 
work  over-tires  the  workers  in  general."  "  Often  sees 

the  children  very  tired  and  stiff-like."  "Is  entirely  of 
a 


134  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

opinion,  after  real  experience,  that  the  hours  of  labour 
are  far  too  long  for  the  children,  for  their  health  and 
education;  has  from  twenty-two  to  twenty-four  boys 
under  his  charge,  from  nine  to  about  fourteen  years  old, 
and  they  are  generally  much  tired  at  night,  always 
anxious,  asking  if  it  be  near  the  mill-stopping."  "  Never 
knew  a  single  worker  among  the  children  that  did  not 
complain  of  the  long  hours,  which  prevent  them  from 
getting  education,  and  from  getting  health  in  the  open 
air." 

The  managers  in  like  manner  state,  that  "  the  labour 
exhausts  the  children;"  that  "the  workers  are  tired  in 
the  evening;"  that  "children  inquire  anxiously  for  the 
hour  of  stopping."  And  admissions  to  the  same  effect, 
on  the  part  of  managers  and  proprietors,  will  be  found 
in  every  part  of  the  Scotch  depositions. 

In  the  north-eastern  district  the  evidence  is  equally 
complete  that  the  fatigue  of  the  young  workers  is  great. 

"  '  I  have  known  the  children/  says  one  witness,  'to  hide  them- 
selves in  the  store  among  the  wool,  so  that  they  should  not  go 
home  when  the  work  was  over,  when  we  have  worked  till  ten  or 
eleven.  I  have  seen  six  or  eight  fetched  out  of  the  store  and  beat 
home ;  beat  out  of  the  mill  however ;  I  do  not  know  why  they 
should  hide  themselves,  unless  it  was  that  they  were  too  tired  to 
go  home.' 

" '  Many  a  one  I  have  had  to  rouse  in  the  last  hour,  when  the 
work  is  very  slack,  from  fatigue.'  '  The  children  were  very  much 
jaded,  especially  when  we  worked  late  at  night/  '  The  children 
bore  the  long  hours  very  ill  indeed/  '  Exhausted  in  body  and 
depressed  in  mind  by  the  length  of  the  hours  and  the  height  of 
the  temperature/  '  I  found,  when  I  was  an  overlooker,  that,  after 


OF  ENGLAND.  135 

the  children  from  eight  to  twelve  years  had  worked  eight,  nine, 
or  ten  hours,  they  were  nearly  ready  to  faint ;  some  were  asleep ; 
some  were  only  kept  to  work  by  being  spoken  to,  or  by  a  little 
chastisement,  to  make  them  jump  up.  I  was  sometimes  obliged 
to  chastise  them  when  they  were  almost  fainting,  and  it  hurt  my 
feelings ;  then  they  would  spring  up  and  work  pretty  well  for 
another  hour ;  but  the  last  two  or  three  hours  were  my  hardest 
work,  for  they  then  got  so  exhausted/  '  I  have  never  seen  fathers 
carrying  their  children  backward  nor  forward  to  the  factories; 
but  I  have  seen  children,  apparently  under  nine,  and  from  nine 
to  twelve  years  of  age,  going  to  the  factories  at  five  in  the  morn- 
ing almost  asleep  in  the  streets/  " 

"  Ellen  Cook,  card-filler :  '  I  was  fifteen  last  winter.  I  worked 
on  then  sometimes  day  and  night; — may  be  twice  a  week ;  I  used 
to  earn  4s.  a  week ;  I  used  to  go  home  to  dinner ;  I  was  a  feeder 
then ;  I  am  a  feeder  still.  We  used  to  come  at  half-past  eight  at 
night,  and  work  all  night  till  the  rest  of  the  girls  came  in  the 
morning;  they  would  come  at  seven,  I  think.  Sometimes  we 
worked  on  till  half-past  eight  the  next  night,  after  we  had  been 
working  all  the  night  before.  We  worked  on  meal-hours,  except 
at  dinner.  I  have  done  that  sometimes  three  nights  a  week,  and 
sometimes  four  nights.  It  was  just  as  the  overlooker  chose.  John 
Singleton ;  he  is  overlooker  now.  Sometimes  the  slubbers  would 
work  on  all  night  too ;  not  always.  The  pieceners  would  have  to 
stay  all  night  then  too.  It  was  not  often  though  that  the  slubbers 
worked  all  night.  We  worked  by  ourselves.  It  was  when  one  of  the 
boilers  was  spoiled ;  that  was  the  reason  we  had  to  work  all  night. 
The  engine  would  not  carry  all  the  machines.  I  was  paid  for  the 
over-hours  when  we  worked  day  and  night ;  not  for  meal-hours. 
We  worked  meal-hours,  but  were  not  paid  for  them.  George  Lee 
is  the  slubber  in  this  room.  He  has  worked  all  night ;  not  often, 
I  think ;  not  above  twice  all  the  time  we  worked  so ;  sometimes 
he  would  not  work  at  all.  The  pieceners  would  work  too  when 
he  did.  They  used  to  go  to  sleep,  poor  things !  when  they  had 
over-hours  in  the  night.  I  think  they  were  ready  enough  to  sleep 
sometimes,  when  they  only  worked  in  the  daytime.  I  never  was  a 
piecener ;  sometimes  I  go  to  help  them  when  there  are  a  good 


1G6  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

many  cardings.  We  have  to  get  there  by  half-past  five,  in  the 
morning,  now.  The  engine  begins  then.  We  don't  go  home  to 
breakfast.  Sometimes  we  have  a  quarter  of  an  hour ;  sometimes 
twenty  minutes  ;  sometimes  none.  Them  in  the  top-room  have  a 
full  half  hour.  We  can't  take  half  an  hour  if  we  like  it ;  we  should 
get  jawed ;  we  should  have  such  a  noise,  we  should  not  hear  the 
last  of  it.  The  pieceners  in  this  room  (there  were  four)  have  the 
Bame  time  as  we  do.  In  some  of  the  rooms  they  forfeit  them  if 
they  are  five  minutes  too  late ;  they  don't  in  this  room.  The 
slubber  often  beats  the  pieceners.  He  has  a  strap,  and  wets  it, 
and  gives  them  a  strap  over  the  hands,  poor  things  !  They  cry 
out  ever  so  loud  sometimes  ;  I  don't  know  how  old  they  are/  " 

"James  Simpson,  aged  twenty-four,  solemnly  sworn,  deposes: 
4  That  he  has  been  about  fifteen  years  in  spinning  mills ;  that  he 
has  been  nearly  a  year  as  an  overseer  in  Mr.  Kinmond's  mill  here, 
and  was  dismissed  on  the  2d  of  May,  for  supporting,  at  a  meeting 
of  the  operatives,  the  Ten  Hours  Bill ;  that  he  was  one  of  the  per- 
sons to  receive  subscriptions,  in  money,  to  forward  the  business, 
and  was  dismissed,  not  on  a  regular  pay-day,  but  on  a  Thursday 
evening,  by  James  Malcolm,  manager,  who  told  him  that  he  was 
dismissed  for  being  a  robber  to  his  master  in  supporting  the  Ten 
Hours  Bill ;  that  by  the  regulations  of  the  mill  he  was  entitled  to 
a  week's  notice,  and  that  a  week's  wages  were  due  to  him  at  the 
time,  but  neither  sum  has  been  paid;  that  he  was  two  or  three  times 
desired  by  the  overseer  to  strike  the  boys  if  he  saw  them  at  any 
time  sitting,  and  has  accordingly  struck  them  with  a  strap,  but  never 
so  severely  as  to  hurt  them ;  that  he  is  not  yet  employed.'  And 
the  preceding  deposition  having  been  read  over  to  him,  he  was 
cautioned  to  be  perfectly  sure  that  it  was  true  in  all  particulars, 
as  it  would  be  communicated  to  the  overseer  named  by  him,  and 
might  still  be  altered  if,  in  any  particular,  he  wished  the  change 
of  a  word ;  but  he  repeated  his  assertion,  on  oath,  that  it  was. 

"  Ann  Kennedy,  sixteen  years  old,  solemnly  sworn,  deposes : 
'  That  she  has  been  nearly  a  year  a  piecer  to  James  McNish,  a 
preceding  witness  ;  that  she  has  had  swelled  feet  for  about  a  year, 
but  she  thinks  them  rather  better ;  that  she  has  a  great  deal  of 
pain,  both  in  her  feet  and  legs,  so  that  she  was  afraid  she  would 


OF   ENGLAND.  137 

not  be  able  to  go  on  with  the  work ;  that  she  thought  it  was  owing 
to  the  heat  and  the  long  standing  on  her  feet ;  that  it  is  a  very 
warm  room  she  is  in ;  that  she  sometimes  looks  at  the  thermo- 
meter and  sees  it  at  82°,  or  84,°  or  86° ;  that  all  the  people  in  the 
room  are  very  pale,  and  a  good  deal  of  them  complaining.'  De- 
poses, that  she  cannot  write. 

"  Joseph  Hurtley,  aged  forty-four :  '  Is  an  overlooker  of  the 
flax-dressing  department.  Has  been  there  since  the  commence- 
ment. Thinks,  from  what  he  observes,  that  the  hours  are  too 
long  for  children.  Is  led  to  think  so  from  seeing  the  children 
much  exhausted  toward  the  conclusion  of  the  work.  When  he 
came  here  first,  and  the  children  were  all  new  to  the  work,  he 
found  that  by  six  o'clock  they  began  to  be  drowsy  and  sleepy. 
He  took  different  devices  to  keep  them  awake,  such  as  giving 
them  snuff,  &c. ;  but  this  drowsiness  partly  wore  off  in  time,  from 
habit,  but  he  still  observes  the  same  with  all  the  boys,  (they  are 
all  boys  in  his  department,)  and  it  continues  with  them  for  some 
time.  Does  not  know  whether  the  children  go  to  school  in  the 
evening,  but  he  thinks,  from  their  appearance,  that  they  would 
be  able  to  receive  very  little  benefit  from  tuition. 

"  'The  occupation  of  draw-boys  and  girls  to  harness  hand-loom 
weavers,  in  their  own  shops,  is  by  far  the  lowest  and  least  sought 
after  of  any  connected  with  the  manufacture  of  cotton.  They  are 
poor,  neglected,  ragged,  dirty  children.  They  seldom  are  taught 
any  thing,  and  they  work  as  long  as  the  weaver,  that  is,  as  long 
as  they  can  see,  standing  on  the  same  spot,  always  barefooted,  oa 
an  earthen,  cold,  damp  floor,  in  a  close,  damp  cellar,  for  thirteen 
or  fourteen  hours  a  day. 

"  *  The  power-loom  dressers  have  all  been  hand-loom  weavers, 
but  now  prevent  any  more  of  their  former  companions  from  being 
employed  in  their  present  business. 

"  '  They  earn  2s.  per  week,  and  eat  porridge,  if  their  parents 
can  afford  it ;  if  not,  potatoes  and  salt.  They  are,  almost  always, 
between  nine  and  thirteen  years  of  age,  and  look  healthy,  though 
some  have  been  two  or  three  years  at  the  business ;  while  the 
weaver,  for  whom  they  draw,  is  looking  pale,  squalid,  and  under- 
fed. 

10 


138  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

"  '  There  are  some  hundreds  of  children  thus  employed  in  the 
immediate  neighbourhood  of  Glasgow.' " 

In  Leicester,  Mr.  Drinkwater,  of  the  Factory  Com- 
mission, found  that  great  cruelty  was  practised  upon 
the  children  employed  in  some  of  the  factories,  by  the 
workmen  called  "  slubbers,"  for  whom  the  young  crea- 
tures act  as  piecers.  Thomas  Hough,  a  trimmer  and 
dyer,  who  had  worked  at  Robinson's  factory,  deposed — 

"  *  The  children  were  beaten  at  the  factory ;  I  complained,  and 
they  were  turned  away.  If  I  could  have  found  the  man  at  the 
time  there  would  have  something  happened,  I  am  sure.  I  knew 
the  man ;  it  was  the  slubber  with  whom  they  worked.  His  name 
was  Smith.  Robinson  had  the  factory  then.  I  had  my  second 
son  in  to  Mr.  Robinson,  and  stripped  him,  and  showed  him  how 
cruelly  he  had  been  beaten.  There  were  nineteen  bruises  on  his 
back  and  posteriors.  It  was  not  with  the  billy-roller.  It  was 
with  the  strap.  He  has  often  been  struck  with  the  billy-roller 
at  other  times,  over  the  head.  Robinson  rebuked  the  man,  and 
said  he  should  not  beat  them  any  more.  The  children  were  beat 
several  times  after  that ;  and  on  account  of  my  making  frequent 
complaints  they  turned  the  children  away.  They  worked  with 
Smith  till  they  left.  Smith  was  of  a  nasty  disposition,  rather. 
I  would  say  of  the  slubbers  generally,  that  they  are  a  morose,  ill- 
tempered  set.  Their  pay  depends  on  the  children's  work.  The 
slubbers  are  often  off  drinking,  and  then  they  must  work  harder 
to  get  the  cardings  up.  I  have  seen  that  often.  That  is  in  the 
lamb's-wool  trade.  Mr.  Gamble  is  one  of  the  most  humane  men 
that  ever  lived,  by  all  that  I  hear,  and  he  will  not  allow  the  slub- 
bers to  touch  the  children,  on  any  pretence ;  if  they  will  not 
work,  he  turns  them  away.  There  gets  what  they  call  flies  on 
the  cardings,  that  is,  when  the  cardings  are  not  properly  pieced ; 
and  it  is  a  general  rule  to  strike  the  children  when  that  happens 
too  often.  They  allow  so  many  ratched  cardings,  as  they  call 
them,  in  a  certain  time ;  and  if  there  are  more,  they  call  the 


OF   ENGLAND.  139 

children  round  to  the  billy-gate  and  strap  them.  I  have  seen  the 
straps  which  some  of  them  use ;  they  are  as  big  as  the  strap  on 
my  son's  lathe  yonder,  about  an  inch  broad,  (looking  at  it.)  Oh, 
it  is  bigger  than  this,  (it  measured  7-8 ths.)  It  is  about  an  inch. 
I  have  seen  the  children  lie  down  on  the  floor,  and  the  slubber 
strike  on  them  as  they  lay.  It  depends  entirely  on  the  temper  of 
the  man  ;  sometimes  they  will  only  swear  at  them,  sometimes 
they  will  beat  them.  They  will  be  severe  with  them  at  one  time, 
and  very  familiar  at  another,  and  run  on  with  all  sorts  of  de- 
bauched language,  and  take  indecent  liberties  with  the  feeders 
and  other  big  girls,  before  the  children.  That  is  the  reason  why 
they  call  the  factories  hell-holes.  There  are  some  a  good  deal  dif- 
ferent. The  overlookers  do  not  take  much  notice  generally.  They 
pick  out  bullies,  generally,  for  overlookers.  It  is  very  necessary 
to  have  men  of  a  determined  temper  to  keep  the  hands  in  order. 

"  '  I  have  known  my  children  get  strapped  two  or  three  times 
between  a  meal.  At  all  times  of  the  day.  Sometimes  they 
would  escape  for  a  day  or  two  together,  just  as  it  might  happen. 
Then  they  get  strapped  for  being  too  late.  They  make  the  chil- 
dren sum  up,  that  is,  pick  up  the  waste,  and  clean  up  the  billies 
during  the  meal-time,  so  that  the  children  don't  get  their  time. 
The  cruelty  complained  of  in  the  factories  is  chiefly  from  the 
slubbers.  There  is  nobody  so  closely  connected  with  the  chil- 
dren as  the  slubbers.  There  is  no  other  part  of  the  machinery 
with  which  I  am  acquainted  where  the  pay  of  the  man  depends 
on  the  work  of  the  children  so  much/  " 

"  Joseph  Badder,  a  slubber,  deposed :  l  Slubbing  and  spinning 
is  very  heavy.  Those  machines  are  thrown  aside  now.  The 
spinners  did  not  like  them,  nor  the  masters  neither.  They  did 
not  turn  off  such  stuff  as  they  expected.  I  always  found  it  more 
difficult  to  keep  my  piecers  awake  the  last  hours  of  a  winter's 
evening.  I  have  told  the  master,  and  I  have  been  told  by  him 
that  I  did  not  half  hide  them.  This  was  when  they  were  work- 
ing from  six  to  eight.  I  have  known  the  children  hide  themselves 
in  the  store  among  the  wool,  so  that  they  should  not  go  home 
when  the  work  was  over,  when  we  have  worked  till  ten  or  eleven. 
I  have  seen  six  or  eight  fetched  out  of  the  store  and  beat  home ; 


140  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

beat  out  of  the  mill.  However,  I  do  not  know  why  they  should 
hide  themselves,  unless  it  was  they  were  too  tired  to  go  home. 
My  piecers  had  two  hours  for  meals.  Other  parts  of  the  work  I 
have  known  them  work  children,  from  seven  to  twelve  in  age, 
from  six  in  the  morning  till  ten  or  eleven  at  night,  and  give  no 
time  for  meals ;  eat  their  victuals  as  they  worked ;  the  engines 
running  all  the  time.  The  engine  never  stopped  at  meal-times  ; 
it  was  just  as  the  spinner  chose  whether  the  children  worked  on 
or  not.  They  made  more  work  if  they  went  on.  I  never  would 
allow  any  one  to  touch  my  piecers.  The  foreman  would  come  at 
times,  and  has  strapped  them,  and  I  told  him  I  would  serve  him 
the  same  if  he  touched  them.  I  have  seen  the  man  who  worked 
the  other  billy  beat  his  piecers.  I  have  seen  children  knocked 
down  by  the  billy-rollers.  It  is  a  weapon  that  a  man  will  easily 
take  up  in  a  passion.  I  do  not  know  any  instance  of  a  man  being 
prosecuted  for  it.  The  parents  are  unwilling,  for  fear  the  children 
should  lose  their  work.  I  know  Thorpe  has  been  up  before  the 
magistrate  half  a  dozen  times  or  more,  on  the  complaint  of  the 
parents.  He  has  been  before  the  bench,  at  the  Exchange,  as  we 
call  it,  and  I  have  seen  him  when  he  came  back,  when  the  magis- 
trates have  reprimanded  Thorpe,  and  told  the  parents  they  had 
better  take  the  children  away.  After  that  he  has  been  sometimes 
half  drunk,  perhaps,  and  in  a  passion,  and  would  strap  them  for 
the  least  thing,  more  than  he  did  before.  I  remember  once  that 
he  was  fined  ;  it  was  about  two  years  and  a  half  ago ;  it  was  for 
beating  a  little  girl ;  he  was  fined  10.9.  I  have  seen  him  strap 
the  women  when  they  took  the  part  of  the  children.  The  master 
complained  he  was  not  strict  enough.  I  know  from  Thorpe  that 
the  master  always  paid  his  expenses  when  he  was  before  the 
magistrate.  I  believe  they  generally  do  in  all  the  factories.  I 
have  frequently  had  complaints  against  myself  by  the  parents  of 
the  children,  for  beating  them.  I  used  to  beat  them.  I  am  sure 
no  man  can  do  without  it  who  works  long  hours ;  I  am  sure  he 
cannot.  I  told  them  I  was  very  sorry  after  I  had  done  it,  but  I 
was  forced  to  do  it.  The  master  expected  me  to  do  my  work,  and 
I  could  not  do  mine  unless  they  did  theirs.  One  lad  used  to  say 
to  me  frequently,  (he  was  a  jocular  kind  of  lad,)  that  he  liked  a 


OF   ENGLAND.  141 

good  beating  at  times,  it  helped  him  to  do  his  work.  I  used  to 
joke  with  them  to  keep  up  their  spirits.  I  have  seen  them  fall  / 
asleep,  and  they  have  been  performing  their  work  with  their  hands 
while  they  were  asleep,  after  the  billy  had  stopped,  when  their  work 
was  done.  I  have  stopped  and  looked  at  them  for  two  minutds, 
going  through  the  motions  of  piecening.fast  asleep,  when  there  was 
really  no  work  to  do,  and  they  were  really  doing  nothing.  I  believe, 
when  we  have  been  working  long  hours,  that  they  have  nevW 
been  washed,  but  on  a  Saturday  night,  for  weeks  together. 

"Thomas  Clarke,  (examined  at  request  of  Joseph  Badder:) 
'  I  am  aged  eleven,  I  work  at  Cooper's  factory ;  the  rope-walk.  I 
spin  there.  I  earn  4s.  a  week  there.  I  have  been  there  about 
one  year  and  a  half.  I  was  in  Ross's  factory  before  that.  I  was 
piecener  there.  I  piecened  for  Joseph  Badder  one  while,  then  for 
George  Castle.  I  piecened  for  Badder  when  he  left.  Badder  told 
me  I  was  wanted  here.  We  have  not  been  talking  about  it.  I 
remember  that  Jesse  came  to  the  machine,  and  Badder  would  not 
let  him  go  nigh,  and  so  they  got  a  scuffling  about  it.  I  was  very 
nigh  nine  years  of  age  when  I  first  went  to  piecen.  I  got  2s.  6d. 
a  week,  at  first.  I  think  I  was  a  good  hand  at  it.  When  I  had 
been  there  half  a  year  I  got  85.  Badder  used  to  strap  me  some 
odd  times.  Some  odd  times  he'd  catch  me  over  the  head,  but  it 
was  mostly  on  the  back.  He  made  me  sing  out.  He  has  taken 
the  billy-roller  to  jne  sometimes  ;  about  four  times,  I  think.  He 
used  to  take  us  over  the  shoulders  with  that ;  he  would  have  done 
us  an  injury  if  he  had  struck  us  over  the  head.  I  never  saw  any 
one  struck  over  the  head  with  a  billy-roller.  He  would  strap  us 
about  twelve  times  at  once.  He  used  to  strap  us  sometimes  over 
the  head.  He  used  to  strap  us  for  letting  his  cards  run  through. 
I  believe  it  was  my  fault.  If  we  had  had  cardings  to  go  on  with 
we  would  have  kept  it  from  running  through.  It  was  nobody's 
fault  that  there  were  no  cardings,  only  the  slubber' s  fault  that 
worked  so  hard.  I  have  had,  maybe,  six  stacks  of  cardings  put 
up  while  he  was  out.  When  he  came  in,  he  would  work  harder 
to  work  down  the  stacks.  Sometimes  he  would  stop  the  card. 
He  used  to  strap  us  most  when  he  was  working  hardest.  He  did 
not  strap  us  more  at  night  than  he  did  in  the  daytime.  He  would 
G* 


142  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

sometimes  stay  half  a  day.  When  he  was  away,  as  soon  as  we 
had  six  stacks  of  cardings  up,  the  rule  was  to  stop,  and  then  we'd 
pick  up  the  waste  about  the  room,  and  take  a  play  sometimes,  but 
very  seldom.  Mr.  Ross  paid  me.  Badder  never  paid  me  when 
he  was  out.  I  never  got  any  money  from  Badder.  I  used  some- 
times to  fall  asleep.  The  boy  next  to  me  used  often  to  fall  asleep : 
John  Breedon ;  he  got  many  a  stroke.  That  was  when  we  were 
working  for  Castle ;  that  would  be  about  six  o'clock.  He  was 
about  the  size  of  me ;  he  was  older  than  I  was.  They  always 
strapped  us  if  we  fell  asleep.  Badder  was  a  better  master  than 
Castle.  Castle  used  to  get  a  rope,  about  as  thick  as  my  thumb, 
and  double  it,  and  put  knots  in  it,  and  lick  us  with  that.  That 
was  a  good  bit  worse  than  the  strap.  I  was  to  no  regular  master 
afterward;  I  used  to  do  bits  about  the  room.  I  ran  away 
because  Thorpe  used  to  come  and  strap  me.  He  did  not  know 
what  he  was  strapping  me  for ;  it  was  just  as  he  was  in  his 
humours.  I  never  saw  such  a  man ;  he  would  strap  any  one 
as  did  not  please  him.  I  only  worked  for  him  a  week  or  two. 
I  didn't  like  it,  and  I  ran  away.  He  would  strap  me  if  even  there 
was  a  bit  of  waste  lying  about  the  room.  I  have  had  marks  on 
my  back  from  Castle's  strapping  me.' " 

In  Nottingham,  also,  there  is  much  cruelty  shown  in 
the  treatment  of  the  children,  as  will  appear  from  the 
following  evidence  taken  by  Mr.  Power : — 

"Williamson,  the  father:  'My  two  sons,  one  ten,  the  other 
thirteen,  work  at  Milnes's  factory,  at  Lenton.  They  go  at  half- 
past  five  in  the  morning;  don't  stop  at  breakfast  or  tea-time. 
They  stop  at  dinner  half  an  hour.  Come  home  at  a  quarter  before 
ten.  They  used  to  work  till  ten,  sometimes  eleven,  sometimes 
twelve.  They  earn  between  them  65.  2d.  per  week.  One  of  them, 
the  eldest,  worked  at  Wilson's  for  2  years  at  2s.  3d.  a  week.  He 
left  because  the  overlooker  beat  him  and  loosened  a  tooth  for  him. 
I  complained,  and  they  turned  him  away  for  it.  They  have  been 
gone  to  work  sixteen  hours  now ;  they  will  be  very  tired  when 
they  come  home  at  half-past  nine.  I  have  a  deal  of  trouble  to  get 


OF   ENGLAND.  143 

'em  up  in  the  morning.  I  have  been  obliged  to  beat  em  with  a 
strap  in  their  shirts,  and  to  pinch  'em,  in  order  to  get  them  well 
awake.  It  made  me  cry  to  be  obliged  to  do  it.' 

" '  Did  you  make  them  cry  ?'  *  Yes,  sometimes.  They  will  be 
home  soon,  very  tired,  and  you  will  see  them/  I  preferred  walk- 
ing toward  the  factory  to  meet  them.  I  saw  the  youngest  only, 
and  asked  him  a  few  questions.  He  said,  '  I'm  sure  I  sha'n't  stop 
to  talk  to  you ;  I  want  to  go  home  and  get  to  bed ;  I  must  be  up 
at  half-past  five  again  to-morrow  morning.' 

"G and  A ,  examined.  The  boy:  'I  am 

going  fourteen :  my  sister  is  eleven.  I  have  worked  in  Milnes's 
factory  two  years.  She  goes  there  also.  We  are  both  in  the 
clearing-room.  I  think  we  work  too  long  hours ;  Fve  been  badly 
with  it.  We  go  at  half-past  five,  give  over  at  half- past  nine.  I'm 
now  just  come  home.  We  sometimes  stay  till  twelve.  We  are 
obliged  to  work  over-hours.  I  have  4s.  a  week ;  that  is,  for  stay- 
ing from  six  till  seven.  They  pay  for  over-hours  besides.  I  asked 
to  come  away  one  night,  lately,  at  eight  o'clock,  being  ill ;  I  was 
told  if  I  went  I  must  not  come  again.  I  am  not  well  now.  I 
can  seldom  eat  any  breakfast ;  my  appetite  is  very  bad.  I  have 
had  a  bad  cold  for  a  week.' 

"  Father:  *  I  believe  him  to  be  ill  from  being  over-worked.  My 
little  girl  came  home  the  other,  day  cruelly  beaten.  I  took  her  to 
Mr.  Milnes ;  did  not  see  him,  but  showed  Mrs.  Milnes  the  marks. 
I  thought  of  taking  it  before  a  magistrate,  but  was  advised  to  let 
it  drop.  They  might  have  turned  both  my  children  away.  That 
man's  name  is  Blagg ;  he  is  always  strapping  the  children.  I 
Bha'n't  let  the  boy  go  to  them  much  longer ;  I  shall  try  to  ap- 
prentice him ;  it's  killing  him  by  inches ;  he  falls  asleep  over  his 
food  at  night.  I  saw  an  account  of  such  things  in  the  newspaper, 
and  thought  how  true  it  was  of  my  own  children.' 

"  Mother :  *  I  have  worked  in  the  same  mills  myself.  The  same 
man  was  there  then.  I  have  seen  him  behave  shocking  to  the 
children.  He  would  take  'em  by  the  hair  of  the  head  and  drag 
'em  about  the  room.  He  has  been  there  twelve  years.  There's 
a  many  young  ones  in  that  hot  room.  There's  six  of  them  badly 
BOW,  with  bad  eyes  and  sick-headache.  This  boy  of  ours  has 


144  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

alwas  been  delicate  from  a  child.  His  appetite  is  very  bad  now ; 
he  does  not  eat  his  breakfast  sometimes  for  two  or  three  days 
together.  The  little  girl  bears  it  well ;  she  is  healthy.  I  should 
prefer  their  coming  home  at  seven,  without  additional  wages. 
The  practice  of  working  over-hours  has  been  constantly  pursued 
at  Milnes's  factory.' 

"John  Fortesque,  at  his  own  house,  nine  p.  M.  'I  am  an  over- 
looker in  this  factory.  We  have  about  one  hundred  hands.  Forty 
ouite  children  ;  most  of  the  remainder  are  young  women.  Our 
regular  day  is  from  six  to  seven.  It  should  be  an  hour  for  dinner, 
but  it  is  only  half  an  hour.  I  don't  know  how  it  comes  so.  We 
have  had  some  bad  men  in  authority  who  made  themselves  big ; 
it  is  partly  the  master.  No  time  is  allowed  for  tea  or  breakfast ; 
there  used  to  be  a  quarter  of  an  hour  for  each  ;  it's  altered  now. 
We  call  it  twelve  hours  a  day.  Over-time  is  paid  for  extra.  When 
we  are  busy  we  work  over-hours.  Our  present  time  is  till  half- 
past  nine.  It  has  been  so  all  winter,  and  since  to  this  time.  We 
have  some  very  young  ones  ;  as  young  as  eight.  I  don't  like  -to 
take  them  younger  ;  they're  not  able  to  do  our  work.  We  have 
three  doubling-rooms,  a  clearing-room,  and  a  gassing-room.  We 
have  about  forty  in  the  clearing-room.  We  occasionally  find  it 
necessary  to  make  a  difference  as  to  the  time  of  keeping  some  of 
the  children.  We  have  done  so  several  times.  Master  has  said : 
Pick  out  the  youngest,  and  let  them  go,  and  get  some  of  the 
young  women  to  take  their  places.  I  am  not  the  overlooker  to  the 
clearing-room.  Blagg  is  overlooker  there ;  there  has  been  many 
complaints  against  him.  He's  forced  to  be  roughish  in  order  to 
keep  his  place.  If  he  did  not  keep  the  work  going  on  properly 
there  would  be  some  one  to  take  his  place  who  would.  There 
are  some  children  so  obstinate  and  bad  they  must  be  punished. 
A  strap  is  used.  Beating  is  necessary,  on  account  of  their  being 
idle.  We  find  it  out  often  in  this  way  :  we  give  them  the  same 
number  of  bobbins  each ;  when  the  number  they  ought  to  finish 
falls  off,  then  they're  corrected.  They  would  try  the  patience  of 
any  man.  It  is  not  from  being  tired,  I  think.  It  happens  as 
often  in  the  middle  of  the  day  as  at  other  times.  I  don't  like  the 
beating  myself;  I  would  rather  there  were  little  deductions  in 


OF   ENGLAND.  145 

their  earnings  for  these  offences.  I  am  sure  the  children  would 
not  like  to  have  any  of  their  earnings  stopped ;  I  am  sure  they 
would  mind  it.  From  what  I  have  heard  parents  say  about  their 
children  when  at  work,  I  am  sure  they  (the  parents)  would 
prefer  this  mode  of  correction  ;  and,  I  think,  it  would  have  an  effect 
on  the  children.  At  the  factory  of  Messrs.  Mills  and  Elliot  they 
go  on  working  all  the  night  as  well  as  day.  I  believe  them  to 
have  done  so  for  the  last  year  and  a  half;  they  have  left  it  off 
about  a  week.  ( A  respectable  female  here  entered  with  a  petition 
against  negro-slavery;  after  she  was  gonet  Mr.  Fortesgue  continued.) 
I  think  home  slavery  as  bad  as  it  can  be  abroad ;  worst  of  any- 
where in  the  factories.  The  hours  we  work  are  much  too  long 
for  young  people.  Twelve  hours'  work  is  enough  for  young  or 
old,  confined  in  a  close  place.  The  work  is  light,  but  it's  stand- 
ing so  long  that  tires  them.  I  have  been  here  about  two  years ; 
J  have  seen  bad  effects  produced  on  people's  health  by  it,  but  not 
to  any  great  degree.  It  must  be  much  worse  at  Mills  and  Elliot's ; 
working  night  as  well  as  day,  the  rooms  are  never  clear  of  people's 
breaths.  We  set  our  windows  open  when  we  turn  the  hands  out. 
The  gas,  too,  which  they  use  at  night,  makes  it  worse/  " 

The  italicised  parenthesis  is,  bond  fide,  a  part  of  the 
Report,  as  may  be  proved  by  consulting  the  parlia- 
mentary document.  The  respectable  female  was  pro- 
bably the  original  of  Dickens's  Mrs.  Jellaby. 

Read  these  references  to  a  case  of  barbarity  in  a 
factory  at  Wigan: — 

Extract  from  a  speech  made  by  Mr.  Grant,  a  Manchester  spinner, 
at  a  meeting  held  at  Chorlton-upon- Medlock ;  reported  in  the 
Manchester  Courier  of  20t7i  April,  1833. 

"  Much  was  said  of  the  black  slaves  and  their  chains.  No 
doubt  they  were  entitled  to  freedom,  but  were  there  no  slaves 
except  those  of  sable  hue  ?  Has  slavery  no  sort  of  existence 
among  children  of  the  factories?  Yes,  and  chains  were  some- 


146 


ot  be  forged  of 

He  would  name  an  instance  of  this  kind  of  slavery,  which 
took  place  at  Wigan.  A  child,  not  ten  yean  of  age,  haying  been 
late  at  the  factory  one  morning,  had,  as  a  punishment,  a  rope 

•a  ^          «  \  ?_X.      -        >^^^i^i*     Ji^      i  ^  ,,-,  |  — 

..-    n-.i..    •     nsml   ^    VBSJBJi    ..    .^--—.^ 
and,  thus  burdened  fike  a  gaDey-daye, 


atmosphere  and  a  heated  room.     [Loud  cries  o£  Shame!] 
truth  of  this  has  been  denied  by  Mr.  Bkhard  Potter,  the  J 

but  he  (the  np>  at  f  i  )  reiterated  its  correctness.    He 
the  child;  and  ifes  mother's  eyes  were  filled  with  tears 
e  toid  him  His  shocking  tale  of  infant  suffering." 

Extract  frvm  aspuAmade  by  Mr.  OastUr,  <m  tkc  occasion  of  a 
meeting  at  ike  City  of  Lomiam  Toner*;  reported  in  ike 


«In  a  mffl  at  Wigan,  the  children,  for  any  sfi^ht  neglect,  were 
loaded  with  weights  of  twenty  pounds,  passed  orer  their  «houl- 
den  and  hanging  behind  their  bads.  Then  there  was  a  mur- 
t  called  a  billy-roller,  about  eigjit  feet  long  and 
I  a  half  in  diameter,  with  which  many  children  had 
±mm\mmmammmam*mmmram*l\yiLm 


from,  a  ipetA  made  by  XT. 


a  meeting  Ud  m 


"In  one  factory  they  hare  a  door  which  coren  a  quantity  of 
cold  water,  in  which  they  plunge  the  sleepy  victim  to  awake  it 
In  Wigan  they  tic  a  great  weight  to  their  backs.  I  knew  the 
ide  the  Poles  carry  iron  weights  in  their  ezDe  to  »•" 


Eowland  Detroiser  deposed  before  the  Central  Board 
of  CommisBioners,  concerning  die  treatment  of  chil- 
droi  in  the  cotton  factories: — 


OF  ENGLAND.  147 

"  'The  children  employed  in  a  cotton-factory  labour,  are  not  all 
under  the  control  or  employed  by  the  proprietor.  A  very  con- 
siderable number  is  employed  and  paid  by  the  spinners  and 
stretchers,  when  there  are  stretchers.  These  are  what  are  called 
piecers  and  scavengers ;  the  youngest  children  being  employed. in 
the  latter  capacity,  and  as  they  grow  up,  for  a  time  in  the  sca- 
vengers and  piecers.  In  coarse  mills,  that  is,  mills  in  which  low 
numbers  of  yarn  are  spun,  the  wages  of  the  scavengers  is  com- 
monly from  Is.  Sd.  to  2s.  6d.,  according  to  size  and  ability.  The 
men  do  not  practise  the  system  of  fining,  generally  speaking,  and 
especially  toward  these  children.  The  sum  which  they  earn  is 
so  small  it  would  be  considered  by  many  a  shame  to  make  it  less. 
They  do  not,  however,  scruple  to  give  them  a  good  bobbying,  as 
it  is  called ;  that  is,  beating  them  with  a  rope  thickened  at  one 
end,  or,  in  some  few  brutal  instances,  with  the  combined  weapons 
of  fist  and  foot.' 

"  '  But  this  severity,  you  say,  is  practised  toward  the  children 
who  are  employed  by  the  men,  and  not  employed  by  the  masters?' 
'Yes/ 

"  'And  the  men  inflict  the  punishment  ?'    '  Yes.' 
"  '  Not  the  overlookers  V    '  Not  in  these  instances/ 
"  '  But  how  do  you  reconcile  your  statement  with  the  fact  that 
the  men  have  been  the  principal  complainers  of  the  cruelties  prac- 
tised toward  the  children,  and  also  the  parties  who  are  most 
active  in  endeavouring  to  obtain  for  the  children  legislative  pro- 
tection?'   'My  statement  is  only  fact.    I  do  not  profess  to  recon- 
cile the  apparent  inconsistency.    The  men  are  in  some  measure 
forced  by  circumstances  into  the  practice  of  that  severity  of 
which  I  have  spoken/ 

" '  Will  you  explain  these  circumstances  ?'  '  The  great  object  in 
a  cotton  mill  is  to  turn  as  much  work  off  as  possible,  in  order  to 
compensate  by  quantity  for  the  smallness  of  the  profit.  To  that 
end  every  thing  is  made  subservient.  There  are  two  classes  of 
superintendents  in  those  establishments.  The  first  class  are 
what  are  called  managers,  from  their  great  power  and  authority. 
Their  especial  business  is  to  watch  over  the  whole  concern,  and 
constantly  to  attend  to  the  quantity  and  quality  of  the  yarn,  &o. 


148  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

turned  off.  To  these  individuals  the  second  class,  called  over, 
lookers,  are  immediately  responsible  for  whatever  is  amiss.  The 
business  of  overlookers  is  to  attend  to  particular  rooms  and  classes 
of  hands,  for  the  individual  conduct  of  which  they  are  held  re- 
sponsible. These  individuals,  in  some  mills,  are  paid  in  propor- 
tion to  the  quantity  of  work  turned  off ;  in  all,  they  are  made  re- 
sponsible for  that  quantity,  as  well  as  for  the  quality ;  and  as  the 
speed  of  each  particular  machine  is  known,  nothing  is  more  easy 
than  to  calculate  the  quantity  which  it  ought  to  produce.  This 
quantity  is  the  maximum  ;  the  minimum  allowed  is  the  least  pos- 
sible deficiency,  certain  contingencies  being  taken  into  account. 
In  those  mills  in  which  the  overlookers  are  paid  in  proportion  to 
the  quantity  of  work  turned  off,  interest  secures  the  closest 
attention  to  the  conduct  of  every  individual  under  them ;  and  in 
other  mills,  fear  of  losing  their  places  operates  to  produce  the 
same  effect.  It  is  one  continual  system  of  driving ;  and,  in  order 
to  turn  off  as  great  a  quantity  of  work  as  is  possible,  the  mana- 
ger drives  the  overlookers,  and  the  overlookers  drive  the  men. 
Every  spinner  knows  that  he  must  turn  off  the  average  quantity 
of  work  which  his  wheels  are  capable  of  producing,  or  lose  his 
place  if  deficiencies  are  often  repeated ;  and  consequently,  the 
piecers  and  scavengers  are  drilled,  in  their  turns,  to  the  severest 
attention.  On  their  constant  attention,  as  well  as  his  own,  de- 
pends the  quantity  of  work  done.  So  that  it  is  not  an  exag- 
geration to  say,  that  their  powers  of  labour  are  subjected  to  the 
severity  of  an  undeviating  exaction.  A  working  man  is  esti- 
mated in  these  establishments  in  proportion  to  his  physical  ca- 
pacity rather  than  his  moral  character,  and  therefore  it  is  not 
difficult  to  infer  what  must  be  the  consequences.  It  begets  a  sys- 
tem of  debasing  tyranny  in  almost  every  department,  the  most 
demoralizing  in  its  effects.  Kind  words  are  godsends  in  many 
cotton  factories,  and  oaths  and  blows  the  usual  order  of  the  day. 
The  carder  must  produce  the  required  quantity  of  drawing  and 
roving  ;  the  spinner,  the  required  quantity  of  yarn  ;  a  system  of 
overbearing  tyranny  is  adopted  toward  everybody  under  them ; 
they  are  cursed  into  the  required  degree  of  attention,  and  blows 
are  resorted  to  with  the  children  when  oaths  fail,  and  sometimes 


OF   ENGLAND.  149 

even  before  an  oath  has  been  tried.  In  short,  the  men  must  do 
work  enough,  or  lose  their  places.  It  is  a  question  between 
losing  their  places  and  the  exercise  of  severity  of  discipline  in 
all  cases  ;  between  starvation  and  positive  cruelty,  in  many. 
There  are  exceptions,  but  my  conviction  is  that  they  are  com- 
paratively few  indeed.  To  me  the  whole  system  has  always 
appeared  one  of  tyranny." 

Mr.  Abraham  Whitehead,  clothier,  of  Scholes,  near 
Holmfirth,  examined  by  Parliamentary  Committee : — 

"  *  What  has  been  the  treatment  which  you  have  observed  that 
these  children  have  received  at  the  mills,  to  keep  them  attentive 
for  so  many  hours,  at  so  early  ages  ?'  *  They  are  generally 
cruelly  treated ;  so  cruelly  treated  that  they  dare  not,  hardly  for 
their  lives,  be  too  late  at  their  work  in  the  morning.  When  I 
have  been  at  the  mills  in  the  winter  season,  when  the  children 
are  at  work  in  the  evening,  the  very  first  thing  they  inquire  is, 
"  What  o'clock  is  it  ?"  If  we  should  answer,  "  Seven,"  they  say, 
"  Only  seven !  it  is  a  great  while  to  ten,  but  we  must  not  give  up 
till  ten  o'clock,  or  past."  They  look  so  anxious  to  know  what 
o'clock  it  is  that  I  am  convinced  the  children  are  fatigued,  and 
think  that,  even  at  seven,  they  have  worked  too  long.  My  heart 
has  been  ready  to  bleed  for  them  when  I  have  seen  them  so 
fatigued,  for  they  appear  in  such  a  state  of  apathy  and  insensi- 
bility as  really  not  to  know  whether  they  are  doing  their  work 
or  not.  They  usually  throw  a  bunch  of  ten  or  twelve  cordings 
across  the  hand,  and  take  one  off  at  a  time ;  but  I  have  seen  the 
bunch  entirely  finished,  and  they  have  attempted  to  take  off  an- 
other, when  they  have  not  had  a  cording  at  all ;  they  have  been 
so  fatigued  as  not  to  know  whether  they  were  at  work  or  not/ 

"  'Do  they  frequently  fall  into  errors  and  mistakes  in  piecing 
when  thus  fatigued?'  'Yes;  the  errors  they  make  when  thus 
fatigued  are,  that  instead  of  placing  the  cording  in  this  way, 
(describing  it,)  they  are  apt  to  place  them  obliquely,  and  that 
causes  a  flying,  which  makes  bad  yarn  ;  and  when  the  billy-spin- 
ner sees  that,  he  takes  his  strap,  or  the  billy-roller,  and  says, 


150  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

"  Damn  thee,  close  it ;  little  devil,  close  it ;"  and  they  strike  the 
child  with  the  strap  or  billy  roller.' 

"  '  You  have  noticed  this  in  the  after  part  of  the  day  more  par- 
ticularly ?'  *  It  is  a  very  difficult  thing  to  go  into  a  mill  in  the 
latter  part  of  the  day,  particularly  in  winter,  and  not  to  hear 
some  of  the  children  crying  for  being  beaten  for  this  very  fault/ 

"  '  How  are  they  beaten  ?'  '  That  depends  on  the  humanity  of 
the  slubber  or  billy-spinner.  Some  have  been  beaten  so  violently 
that  they  have  lost  their  lives  in  consequence  of  being  so  beaten ; 
and  even  a  young  girl  has  had  the  end  of  a  billy-roller  jammed 
through  her  cheek/ 

"  'What  is  the  billy-roller V  'A  heavy  rod  of  from  two  to 
three  yards  long,  and  of  two  inches  in  diameter,  and  with  an 
iron  pivot  at  each  end.  It  runs  on  the  top  of  the  cording,  over 
the  feeding-cloth.  I  have  seen  them  take  the  billy-roller  and  rap 
them  on  the  head,  making  their  heads  crack  so  that  you  might 
have  heard  the  blow  at  a  distance  of  six  or  eight  yards,  in  spite 
of  the  din  and  rolling  of  the  machinery.  Many  have  been 
knocked  down  by  the  instrument.  I  knew  a  boy  very  well,  of 
the  name  of  Senior,  with  whom  I  went  to  school ;  he  was  struck 
with  a  billy-roller  on  the  elbow ;  it  occasioned  a  swelling ;  he  was 
not  able  to  work  more  than  three  or  four  weeks  after  the  blow  ; 
and  he  died  in  consequence.  There  was  a  woman  in  Holmfirth 
who  was  beaten  very  much :  I  am  not  quite  certain  whether  on 
the  head ;  and  she  lost  her  life  in  consequence  of  being  beaten 
with  a  billy-roller.  That  which  was  produced  (showing  one)  is 
not  the  largest  size;  there  are  some  a  foot  longer  than  that;  it 
is  the  most  common  instrument  with  which  these  poor  little 
pieceners  are  beaten,  more  commonly  than  with  either  stick  or 
strap/ 

"  '  How  is  it  detached  from  the  machinery  V  l  Supposing  this 
to  be  the  billy-frame,  (describing  it,)  at  each  end  there  is  a  socket 
open ;  the  cording  runs  underneath  here,  just  in  this  way,  and 
when  the  billy-spinner  is  angry,  and  sees  the  little  piecener  has 
done  wrong,  he  takes  off  this  and  says,  "Damn  thee,  close  it."'' 

"  *  You  have  seen  the  poor  children  in  this  situation  1'  '  I  have 
jeen  them  frequently  struck  with  the  billy-roller ;  I  have  seen 


OF   ENGLAND.  151 

one  so  struck  as  to  occasion  its  death ;  but  I  once  saw  a  piecener 
struck  in  the  face  by  a  billy-spinner  with  his  hand,  until  its  nose 
bled  very  much ;  and  when  I  said,  "  Oh  dear,  I  would  not  sufler 
a  child  of  mine  to  be  treated  thus,"  the  man  has  said  "  How  the 
devil  do  you  know  but  what  he  deserved  it  ?  What  have  you  to 
do  with  it?"'" 

But  the  most  complete  evidence  in  regard  to  the 
slavery  in  the  factories  was  that  given  to  the  Par- 
liamentary Committee,  by  a  man  named  Peter  Smart, 
whose  experience  and  observation  as  a  slave  and  a 
slave-driver  in  the  factories  of  Scotland,  enabled  him 
to  substantiate  all  the  charges  made  against  the  sys- 
tem. His  history  possesses  the  deepest  interest,  and 
should  be  attentivelv  perused : — 

"  *  Where  do  you  reside  1'    '  At  Dundee.' 

"  *  What  age  are  you  ?'     '  Twenty-seven.' 

"  *  What  is  your  business  V     *  An  overseer  of  a  flax-mill/ 

"  '  Have  you  worked  in  a  mill  from  your  youth  V  *  Yes,  since 
I  was  five  years  of  age/ 

"  '  Had  you  a  father  and  mother  in  the  country  at  that  time  ?' 
'  My  mother  stopped  in  Perth,  about  eleven  miles  from  the  mill, 
and  my  father  was  in  the  army/ 

"'Were  you  hired  for  any  length  of  time  when  you  went?' 
*  Yes,  my  mother  got  155.  for  six  years,  I  having  my  meat  and 
clothes/ 

"  *  At  whose  mill?'    « Mr.  Andrew  Smith's,  at  Gateside.' 

" « Is  that  in  Fifeshire  ?'     '  Yes.' 

"  '  What  were  your  hours  of  labour,  do  you  recollect,  in  that 
mill  ?'  '  In  the  summer  season  we  were  very  scarce  of  water.' 

"  '  But  when  you  had  sufficient  water,  how  long  did  you  work?' 
1  We  began  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  worked  till  ten  or 
eleven  at  night ;  as  long  as  we  could  stand  upon  our  feet.' 


152  THE    WHITE    SLAVES 

"  '  You  hardly  could  keep  up  for  that  length  of  time  ?'  *  No, 
we  often  fell  asleep.' 

"  '  How  were  you  kept  to  your  work  for  that  length  of  time  ; 
were  you  chastised  ?'  *  Yes,  very  often,  and  very  severely.' 

" '  How  long  was  this  ago  V  '  It  is  between  twenty-one  and 
twenty-two  years  since  I  first  went.' 

" '  Were  you  kept  in  the  premises  constantly  ?'     *  Constantly/ 

"  '  Locked  up  ?'     «  Yes,  locked  up.' 

"'Night  and  day?'  *  Night  and  day;  I  never  went  home 
while  I  was  at  the  mill.' 

"  '  Was  it  possible  to  keep  up  your  activity  for  such  a  length 
of  time  as  that  ?'  '  No,  it  was  impossible  to  do  it ;  we  often  fell 
asleep.' 

" '  Were  not  accidents  then  frequently  occurring  at  that  mill 
from  over-fatigue  ?'  'Yes,  I  got  my  hands  injured  there  by  the 
machinery.' 

"  '  Have  you  lost  any  of  your  fingers  ?'  '  Yes,  I  have  lost  one, 
and  the  other  hand  is  very  much  injured/ 

"  '  At  what  time  of  the  night  was  that  when  your  hands  became 
thus  injured  ?'  '  Twilight,  between  seven  and  eight  o'clock/ 

"  '  Do  you  attribute  that  accident  to  over- fatigue  and  drowsi- 
ness ?'  '  Yes,  and  to  a  want  of  knowledge  of  the  machinery.  I 
was  only  five  years  old  when  I  went  to  the  mills,  and  I  did  not 
know  the  use  of  the  different  parts  of  the  machinery/ 

"  '  Did  you  ever  know  any  other  accident  happen  in  that  mill  ?' 
'Yes,  there  was  a  girl  that  fell  off  her  stool  when  she  was 
piecing  ;  she  fell  down  and  was  killed  on  the  spot/ 

"  '  Was  that  considered  by  the  hands  in  the  mill  to  have  been 
occasioned  by  drowsiness  and  excessive  fatigue  ?'  '  Yes/ 

"  '  How  old  were  you  at  the  time  this  took  place  ?'  '  I  don't 
know,  for  I  have  been  so  long  in  the  mills  that  I  have  got  no 
education,  and  I  have  forgot  the  like  of  those  things/ 

"  '  Have  you  any  recollection  of  what  the  opinions  of  the  peo- 
ple in  the  mill  were  at  that  time  as  to  the  cause  of  the  accident?' 
'  I  heard  the  rest  of  them  talking  about  it,  and  they  said  that  it 
was  so.  We  had  long  stools  that  we  sat  upon  then,  old-fa- 
shioned ;  we  have  no  such  things  as  those  now/ 


OF   ENGLAND.  153 

"  '  Is  that  the  only  accident  that  you  have  known  to  happen  in 
that  mill  ?'  *  There  was  a  boy,  shortly  before  I  got  my  fingers 
hurt,  that  had  his  fingers  hurt  in  the  same  way  that  I  had/ 

" '  Was  there  any  other  killed  ?'  '  There  was  one  killed,  but  I 
could  not  say  how  it  was  ;  but  she  was  killed  in  the  machinery/ 

" t  Has  any  accident  happened  in  that  mill  during  the  last 
twelve  years?'  *I  could  not  say;  it  is  twelve  years  since  I 
left  it/ 

" '  Is  that  mill  going  on  still  T     '  Yes/ 

" '  Speaking  of  the  hours  that  you  had  to  labour  there,  will  you 
state  to  this  committee  the  effect  it  had  upon  you  ?'  '  It  had  a  very 
great  effect  upon  me ;  I  was  bad  in  my  health/ 

" '  Were  you  frequently  much  beaten,  in  order  to  keep  you  up 
to  your  labour  ?'  *  Yes ;  very  often  beat  till  I  was  bloody  at  the 
mouth  and  at  the  nose,  by  the  overseer  and  master  too/ 

"  '  How  did  they  beat  you  ?'  '  With  their  hands  and  with  a 
leather  thong/ 

"'Were  the  children,  generally  speaking,  treated  as  you 
have  stated  you  were  T  l  Yes  ;  generally ;  there  are  generally 
fifteen  boys  in  one,  and  a  number  of  girls  in  the  other ;  they  were 
kept  separately/ 

" '  You  say  you  were  locked  up  night  and  day  ?;     '  Yes/ 

"  l  Do  the  children  ever  attempt  to  run  away  ?'     '  Very  often/ 

"'Were  they  pursued  and  brought  back  again?'  'Yes,  the 
overseer  pursued  them,  and  brought  them  back/ 

" '  Did  you  ever  attempt  to  run  away  ?;    '  Yes,  I  ran  away  twice/ 

"  '  And  you  were  brought  back  ?'  '  Yes ;  and  I  was  sent  up  to 
the  master's  loft,  and  threshed  with  a  whip  for  running  away/ 

"  '  Were  you  bound  to  this  man  ?'     '  Yes,  for  six  years/ 

" '  By  whom  were  you  bound  ?'  '  My  mother  got  155.  for  the 
six  years/ 

"'Do  you  know  whether  the  children  were,  in  point  of  fact, 
compelled  to  stop  during  the  whole  time  for  which  they  were  en- 
gaged ?'  '  Yes,  they  were/ 

"  '  By  law  T  ' 1  cannot  say  by  law ;  but  they  were  compelled 
by  the  master ;  I  never  saw  any  law  used  there  but  the  law  of 
their  own  hands/ 

11 


154  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

"'Does  that  practice  of  binding  continue  in  Scotland  now?7 
'  Not  in  the  place  I  am  in/ 

"'How  long  since  it  has  ceased?'  'For  the  last  two  years 
there  has  been  no  engagement  in  Dundee/ 

"  '  Are  they  generally  engagements  from  week  to  week,  or  from 
month  to  month  ¥  '  From  month  to  month/ 

" '  Do  you  know  whether  a  practice  has  prevailed  of  sending 
poor  children,  who  are  orphans,  from  workhouses  and  hospitals  to 
that  work  ?'  '  There  were  fifteen,  at  the  time  I  was  there,  came 
from  Edinburgh  Poorhouse/ 

" '  Do  you  know  what  the  Poorhouse  in  Edinburgh  is  ?'  '  It  is 
just  a  house  for  putting  poor  orphans  in/ 

" '  Do  you  know  the  name  of  that  establishment  ?'     '  No/ 

" '  Do  you  happen  to  know  that  these  fifteen  came  to  the  mill 
from  an  establishment  for  the  reception  of  poor  orphans  ?;  '  Yes/ 

" '  How  many  had  you  at  the  mill  ?'     '  Fifteen/ 

" '  At  what  ages  ?'    '  From  12  to  15/ 

"  'Were  they  treated  in  a  similar  manner  to  yourself?'  '  Yes, 
we  were  all  treated  alike ;  there  was  one  treatment  for  all,  from 
the  oldest  to  the  youngest/ 

" '  Did  not  some  of  you  attempt,  not  merely  to  get  out  of  the  mill, 
but  out  of  the  country  ?'  '  Yes ;  I  have  known  some  go  down  to 
the  boat  at  Dundee,  in  order  to  escape  by  that  means,  and  the 
overseer  has  caught  them  there,  and  brought  them  back  again/ 

" '  Is  there  not  a  ferry  there  ?'    Yes/ 

" '  When  persons  disembark  there,  they  may  embark  on  the 
ferry?'  'Yes/ 

" '  Did  your  parents  live  in  Dundee  at  this  time  ?'    '  No/ 

" '  Had  you  any  friends  at  Dundee  ?'     '  No/ 

" '  The  fact  is,  that  you  had  nobody  that  could  protect  you  ?'  '  No, 
I  had  no  protection ;  the  first  three  years  I  was  at  the  mill  I  never 
saw  my  mother  at  all-;  and  when  I  got  this  accident  with  my 
hand  she  never  knew  of  it/ 

"  '  Where  did  she  reside  at  that  time  ?'     '  At  Perth/ 

" '  You  say  that  your  master  himself  was  in  the  habit  of  treat- 
ing you  in  the  way  you  have  mentioned  ?'  '  Yes/ 

'"Describe  what  the  treatment  was?'    'The  treatment  was 


OF  ENGLAND.  155 

very  bad ;  perhaps  a  box  on  the  ear,  or  very  frequently  a  kick 
with  his  foot/ 

"  *  Were  you  punished  for  falling  asleep  in  that  mill  ?'  '  Yes, 
I  have  got  my  licks  for  it,  and  been  punished  very  severely  for  it.* 

" '  Where  did  you  go  to  then  ?'  '  I  went  to  a  mill  in  Argyle- 
ehire/ 

"  '  How  fiiany  years  were  you  in  this  mill  of  Mr.  Andrew  Smith's, 
of  Gateside  t'  '  Eleven  years/ 

"  '  What  age  were  you,  when  you  went  to  this  mill  in  Argyle- 
shire?'  'About  16.' 

" '  You  stated  that  you  were  bound  to  stay  with  Mr.  Smith  for 
six  years ;  how  came  you  then  to  continue  with  him  the  remaining 
five  years  ?'  '  At  the  end  of  those  six  years  I  got  3Z.  a  year  from 
my  master,  and  found  my  own  clothes  out  of  that/ 

"  *  Were  you  then  contented  with  your  situation  ?'  '  No,  I  can- 
not say  that  I  was ;  but  I  did  not  know  any  thing  of  any  other 
business/ 

" '  You  had  not  been  instructed  in  any  other  business,  and 
you  did  not  know  where  you  could  apply  for  a  maintenance  V 
'No/ 

"'To  whose  mill  did  you  then  remove?'  'To  Messrs.  Duff, 
Taylor  &  Co.,  at  Ruthven,  Forfarshire/ 

" '  What  were  your  hours  of  labour  there  ¥     '  Fourteen  hours/ 

*' '  Exclusive  of  the  time  for  meals  and  refreshment  V    '  Yes/ 

« '  Was  that  a  flax  mill  V    '  Yes/ 

" '  Did  you  work  for  that  number  of  hours  both  winter  and 
summer  V  '  Yes,  both  winter  and  summer/ 

"  '  How  old  were  you  at  this  time  ?'     '  Sixteen/ 

" '  Are  you  aware  whether  any  increase  was  made  in  the  num- 
ber of  hours  of  work,  in  the  year  1819,  by  an  agreement  between 
the  masters  and  the  workmen  ?'  '  No,  I  cannot  say  as  to  that/ 

" '  You  think  there  could  not  be  much  increase  of  your  previous 
labour,  whatever  agreement  might  have  been  made  upon  the  sub- 
ject?' 'No,  there  could  have  been  no  increase  made  to  that;  it 
was  too  long  for  that/ 

"'Were  the  hands  chastised  up  to  their  labour  in  that  mill?1 
'Yes/ 


156  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

"  *  That  was  the  practice  there  also  ?'     '  Yes/ 

"  *  Do  you  mean  to  state  that  you  were  treated  with  great  cruelty 
at  the  age  of  16,  and  that  you  still  remain  in  the  mill  ?;  *  I  was 
not  beaten  so  severely  as  I  was  in  Fifeshire/ 

"  *  You  were  not  so  beaten  as  to  induce  you  to  leave  that  mill  ?' 
'  If  I  had  left  it,  I  did  not  know  where  to  go/ 

"  '  Did  you  try  to  get  into  any  other  occupation  ?'  *  Yes,  I  went 
apprentice  to  a  flax-dresser  at  that  time/ 

"'What  was  the  reason  that  you  did  not  keep  at  it?'  'My 
hand  was  so  disabled,  that  it  was  found  I  was  not  able  to  follow 
that  business/ 

"  '  You  found  you  could  not  get  your  bread  at  that  business  ?' 
'Yes/ 

" '  Consequently,  you  were  obliged  to  go  back  to  the  mills  ?' 
'Yes/ 

"  '  Was  it  the  custom,  when  you  were  16  years  of  age,  for  the 
overseer  to  beat  you  V  '  Yes,  the  boys  were  often  beaten  very 
severely  in  the  mill/ 

"  '  At  this  time  you  were  hired  for  wages ;  how  much  had  you  ?' 
'  Half-a-crown  a  week/ 

"  '  And  your  maintenance  ?'     '  No,  I  maintained  myself/ 

"  '  Is  not  that  much  lower  than  the  wages  now  given  to  people 
of  sixteen  years  of  age  ?'  '  I  have  a  boy  about  sixteen  that  has 
4s.  6d.  a  week,  but  he  is  in  a  high  situation ;  he  is  oiler  of  the 
machinery/ 

"  '  Besides,  you  have  been  injured  in  your  hand  by  the  accident 
to  which  -you  have  alluded,  and  that  probably  might  have  inter- 
fered with  the  amount  of  your  wages  ?'  '  Yes/ 

"  '  What  duty  had  you  in  the  mill  at  this  time,  for  the  perform- 
ance of  which  you  received  2s.  €>d.  a  week,  when  you  were  at  Duff, 
Taylor  &  Co/s  V  *  I  was  a  card-feeder/ 

" '  Did  your  hand  prevent  you  working  at  that  time  as  well  as 
other  boys  of  the  same  age,  in  feeding  the  cards  V  *  Yes,  on  the 
old  system ;  I  was  not  able  to  feed  with  a  stick  at  that  time ;  it  is 
done  away  with  now/ 

•' '  How  long  did  you  stay  there  V    '  About  fifteen  months/ 

" '  How  many  hours  did  you  work  there  T    '  Fourteen/ 


OF   ENGLAND.  157 

"  '  Do  you  mean  that  you  worked  fourteen  hours  actual  la- 
bour?' 'Yes/ 

"  «  Was  it  a  water-mill  V     '  Yes/ 

"  '  Were  you  ever  short  of  water  ?'     *  We  had  plenty  of  water/ 

"  '  How  long  did  you  stop  for  dinner?'     *  Half  an  hour/ 

" '  What  time  had  you  for  breakfast,  or  for  refreshment  in  the 
afternoon  ?'  *  We  had  no  time  for  that/ 

"'Did  you  eat  your  breakfast  and  dinner  in  the  mill  then?' 
'No,  we  went  to  the  victualling  house/ 

"  '  Was  that  some  building  attached  to  the  mill  V  '  Yes,  at  a 
a  small  distance  from  the  mill/ 

" '  Was  it  provided  for  the  purpose  of  the  mill  ?'  *  Yes,  we  got 
our  bread  and  water  there/ 

"  '  Did  you  sleep  in  a  bothy  at  Duff  &  Taylor's  V     t  Yes/ 
'  "  '  Were  you  locked  up  in  a  bothy  ?'     '  No/ 

"  '  What  is  a  bothy  ?'     '  It  is  a  house  with  beds  all  round/ 

'"Is  it  not  the  practice  for  farm-servants,  and  others,  who  are 
unmarried,  to  sleep  in  such  places  ?'  '  I  could  not  say  as  to  that ; 
I  am  not  acquainted  with  the  farm  system/ 

" '  To  what  mill  did  you  next  go  ?'  '  To  Mr.  Webster's,  at  Battus 
Den,  within  eleven  miles  of  Dundee/ 

"  ' In  what  situation  did  you  act  there?'  'I  acted  as  an  over- 
Beer/ 

"  « At  17  years  of  age  ?'    '  Yes/ 

" '  Did  you  inflict  the  same  punishment  that  you  yourself  had 
experienced  ?'  '  I  went  as  an  overseer ;  not  as  a  slave,  but  as  a 
slave-driver/ 

" '  What  were  the  hours  of  labour  in  that  mill  ?'  '  My  master 
told  me  that  I  had  to  produce  a  certain  quantity  of  yarn  ;  the 
hours  were  at  that  time  fourteen ;  I  said  that  I  was  not  able  to 
produce  the  quantity  of  yarn  that  was  required ;  I  told  him  if  he 
took  the  timepiece  out  of  the  mill  I  would  produce  that  quantity, 
and  after  that  time  I  found  no  difficulty  in  producing  the  quantity/ 

" '  How  long  have  you  worked  per  day  in  order  to  produce 
the  quantity  your  master  required  ?'  '  I  have  wrought  nineteen 
hours/ 

" '  Was  this  a  water-mill  ?'    '  Yes,  water  and  steam  both/ 
H 


158  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

" '  To  what  time  have  you  worked  ?'  '  I  have  seen  the  mill 
going  till  it  was  past  12  o'clock  on  the  Saturday  night/ 

"  *  So  that  the  mill  was  still  working  on  the  Sabbath  morning/ 
'Yes/ 

"  *  Were  the  workmen  paid  by  the  piece,  or  by  the  day  ?'  '  No, 
all  had  stated  wages/ 

"  *  Did  not  that  almost  compel  you  to  use  great  severity  to  the 
hands  then  under  you?'  'Yes;  I  was  compelled  often  to  beat 
them,  in  order  to  get  them  to  attend  to  their  work,  from  their 
being  overwrought/ 

"  *  Were  not  the  children  exceedingly  fatigued  at  that  time  ?' 
*  Yes,  exceedingly  fatigued/ 

" '  Were  the  children  bound  in  the  same  way  in  that  mill  ?' 
'  No ;  they  were  bound  from  one  year's  end  to  another,  for  twelve 
months/ 

"  '  Did  you  keep  the  hands  locked  up  in  the  same  way  in  that 
mill  ?'  '  Yes,  we  locked  up  the  mill ;  but  we  did  not  lock  the 
bothy/ 

" '  Did  you  find  that  the  children  were  unable  to  pursue  their 
labour  properly  to  that  extent  ?'  *  Yes ;  they  have  been  brought 
to  that  condition,  that  I  have  gone  and  fetched  up  the  doctor  to 
them,  to  see  what  was  the  matter  with  them,  and  to  know 
whether  they  were  able  to  rise,  or  not  able  to  rise ;  they  were 
not  at  all  able  to  rise ;  we  have  had  great  difficulty  in  getting 
them  up/ 

" '  When  that  was  the  case,  how  long  have  they  been  in  bed, 
generally  speaking  ?'  '  Perhaps  not  above  four  or  five  hours  in 
their  beds.  Sometimes  we  were  very  ill-plagued  by  men  coming 
about  the  females'  bothy/ 

"'Were  your  hands  principally  girls ?'  'Girls  and  boys  all 
together ;  we  had  only  a  very  few  boys/ 

" '  Did  the  boys  sleep  in  the  girls'  bothy?'     '  Yes,  all  together/ 

"  *  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  there  was  only  one  bothy  for  the 
girls  and  for  the  boys  who  worked  there  ?'  '  Yes/ 

" '  What  age  were  those  girls  and  boys  ?'  '  We  had  them  from 
8  to  20  years  of  age ;  and  the  boys  were  from  10  to  14,  or  there- 
abouts/ 


OF  ENGLAND.  159 

" '  You  spoke  of  men  who  came  about  the  bothy ;  did  the  girls 
expect  them  ?'  '  Yes ;  of  course  they  had  their  sweethearts/ 

"  *  Did  they  go  into  the  bothy  ?'  *  Yes ;  and  once  I  got  a  sore 
beating  from  one  of  them,  for  ordering  him  out  of  the  bothy/ 

"  '  How  long  were  you  in  that  mill  ?'  '  Three  years  and  nine 
months/ 

"  *  And  where  did  you  go  to  next?'  '  To  Messrs.  Anderson  & 
Company,  at  Moneyfieth,  about  six  miles  from  Dundee/ 

"  'What  were  your  hours  of  labour  there  ?'     '  Fifteen  hours/ 

""'Exclusive  of  the  hour  for  refreshment?'  'Yes  ;  we  seldom 
stopped  for  refreshment  there/ 

" '  You  worked  without  any  intermission  at  all,  frequently  ?' 
'  Yes  ;  we  made  a  turn-about/ 

"  '  Explain  what  you  mean  by  a  turn-about  ?'  '  We  let  them 
out  by  turns  in  the  days/ 

"  '  How  long  did  you  let  one  go  out  ?  '  Just  as  short  a  time  as 
they  could  have  to  take  their  victuals  in/ 

"  '  What  were  the  ages  of  the  children  principally  employed  in 
that  place  ?'  '  From  about  12  to  20 ;  they  were  all  girls  that  I 
had  there,  except  one  boy,  and  I  think  he  was  8  years  of  age/ 

"  'Was  this  a  flax-mill  V     '  Yes,  all  flax/ 

" '  Did  you  find  that  the  children  there  were  exceedingly  dis- 
tressed with  their  work  ?'  '  Yes ;  for  the  mill  being  in  the  country, 
we  were  very  scarce  of  workers,  and  the  master  often  came  out 
and  compelled  them  by  flattery  to  go  and  work  half  the  night 
after  their  day's  labour,  and  then  they  had  only  the  other  half  to 
sleep/ 

" '  You  mean  that  the  master  induced  them  by  offering  them 
extra  wages  to  go  to  work  half  the  night  ?'  '  Yes/ 

"  '  Was  that  very  prejudicial  to  the  girls  so  employed  ?'  '  Yes ; 
I  have  seen  some  girls  that  were  working  half  the  night,  that  have 
fainted  and  fallen  down  at  their  work,  and  have  had  to  be  carried 
out/ 

"  '  Did  you  use  severity  in  that  mill  ?'  '  No,  I  was  not  very 
severe  there/ 

" '  You  find,  perhaps,  that  the  girls  do  not  require  that  severity 
that  the  boys  do?'  'Yes/ 


160  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

" '  How  large  was  that  mill  ?'  '  There  were  only  eighteen  of  ua 
altogether/ 

"  '  From  what  you  have  seen,  should  you  say  that  the  treatment 
of  the  children  and  the  hours  of  labour  are  worse  in  the  small  or 
in  the  large  mills?'  '  I  could  not  answer  that  question/ 

"  'Have  you  ever  been  in  any  large  mill  V  '  Yes,  I  am  in  one 
just  now,  Mr.  Baxter's/ 

" '  Is  the  treatment  of  the  children  better  in  that  large  mill  than 
in  the  smaller  mills  in  which  you  have  been  usually  ?'  '  There  is 
little  difference ;  the  treatment  is  all  one/ 

'"To  whose  mill  did  you  next  go?'  'To  Messrs.  Baxter  & 
Brothers,  at  Dundee/ 

"  '  State  the  hours  of  labour  which  you  worked  when  you  were 
there,  when  trade  was  brisk?'  'Thirteen  hours  and  twenty 
minutes/ 

" '  What  time  was  allowed  for  meals?'  '  Fifty  minutes  each  day/ 

"  '  Have  you  found  that  the  system  is  getting  any  better  now  ?' 
'  No,  the  system  is  getting  no  better  with  us/ 

"  '  Is  there  as  much  beating  as  there  was  ?'  '  There  is  not  so 
much  in  the  licking  way/ 

" '  But  it  is  not  entirely  abolished,  the  system  of  chastisement  ?' 
'  No,  it  is  far  from  that/ 

'"Do  you  think  that,  where  young  children  are  employed,  that 
system  ought,  or  can  be,  entirely  dispensed  with,  of  giving  some 
chastisement  to  the  children  of  that  age  ?'  '  They  would  not  re- 
quire chastisement  if  they  had  shorter  daily  work/ 

'"Do  you  mean  to  state  that  they  are  only  chastised  because 
through  weariness  they  are  unable  to  attend  to  their  work,  and 
that  they  are  not  chastised  for  other  faults  and  carelessness  as 
well  ?'  '  There  may  be  other  causes  besides,  but  weariness  is  the 
principal  fault/ 

" '  Does  not  that  over-labour  induce  that  weariness  and  inca- 
pacity to  do  the  work,  which  brings  upon  them  chastisement  at 
other  parts  of  the  day  as  well  as  in  the  evening  ?'  '  Yes  ;  young 
girls, -if  their  work  go  wrong,  if  they  see  me  going  round,  and 
my  countenance  with  the  least  frown  upon  it,  they  will  begin 
crying  when  I  go  by/ 


OF   ENGLAND.  161 

" '  Then  they  live  in  a  state  of  perpetual  alarm  and  suffering  ?' 
'Yes/ 

"  '  Do  you  think  that  those  children  are  healthy  V  '  No,  they 
are  far  from  that ;  I  have  two  girls  that  have  been  under  me  these 
two  years ;  the  one  is  13  years,  the  other  15,  and  they  are  both 
orphans  and  sisters,  and  both  one  size,  and  they  very  seldom  are 
working  together,  because  the  one  or  the  other  is  generally  ill ; 
and  they  are  working  for  3s."  Qd.  a  week/ 

"  '  Have  you  the  same  system  of  locking  up  now  ?'  '  Yes,  lock- 
ing up  all  day/ 

"  '  Are  they  locked  up  at  night  ?'  *  No ;  after  they  have  left 
their  work  we  have  nothing  more  to  do  with  them/ 

"  *  What  time  do  they  leave  their  work  in  the  evening  now?' 
'  About  20  mjTiiitefl  naaf-  7  * 

"  '  What  time  do  they  go  to  it  in  the  morning  ?'  *  Five  minutes 
before  5  / 

" '  Do  you  conceive  that  that  is  at  all  consistent  with  the  health 
of  those  children  V  '  It  is  certainly  very  greatly  against  their 
health/ 

"  '  Is  not  the  flax-spinning  business  in  itself  very  unwholesome?' 
*  Very  unwholesome/ 


So  much  for  the  slavery  of  the  factories — a  slavery 
which  destroys  human  beings,  body  and  soul.  The  fate 
of  the  helpless  children  condemned  to  such  protracted, 
exhausting  toil,  under  such  demoralizing  influences, 
with  the  lash  constantly  impending  over  them,  and  no 
alternative  but  starvation,  is  enough  to  excite  the  tears 
of  all  humane  persons.  That  such  a  system  should  be 
tolerated  in  a  land  where  a  Christian  church  is  a  part 
of  the  government,  is  indeed  remarkable — proving  how 
greatly  men  are  disinclined  to  practise  what  they 
profess. 


162  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

We  cannot  close  this  chapter  upon  the  British  fac- 
tories without  making  a  quotation  from  a  work  which,' 
we  fear,  has  been  too  little  read  in  the  United  Kingdom 
— a  fiction  merely  in  construction,  a  truthful  narrative 
in  fact.  We  allude  to  "  The  Life  and  Adventures  of 
Michael  Armstrong,  the  Factory  Boy/'  by  Frances 
Trollope.  Copious  editions  of  this  heart-rending  story 
should  be  immediately  issued  by  the  British  publishers. 
This  passage,  describing  the  visit  of  Michael  Arm- 
strong to  the  cotton  factory,  in  company,  with  Sir 
Matthew  Cowling  and  Dr.  Crockley,  is  drawn  to  the 
life:— 

"The  party  entered  the  building,  whence — as  all  know  who 
have  done  the  like — every  sight,  every  sound,  every  scent  that 
kind  nature  has  fitted  to  the  organs  of  her  children,  so  as  to  ren- 
der the  mere  unfettered  use  of  them  a  delight,  are  banished  for 
ever  and  for  ever.  The  ceaseless  whirring  of  a  million  hissing 
wheels  seizes  on  the  tortured  ear ;  and  while  threatening  to  de- 
stroy the  delicate  sense,  seems  bent  on  proving  first,  with  a  sort 
of  mocking  mercy,  of  how  much  suffering  it  can  be  the  cause. 
The  scents  that  reek  around,  from  oil,  tainted  water,  and  human 
filth,  with  that  last  worst  nausea  arising  from  the  hot  refuse  of 
atmospheric  air,  left  by  some  hundred  pairs  of  labouring  lungs, 
render  the  act  of  breathing  a  process  of  difficulty,  disgust,  and 
pain.  All  this  is  terrible.  But  what  the  eye  brings  home  to  the 
heart  of  those  who  look  round  upon  the  horrid  earthly  hell,  is 
enough  to  make  it  all  forgotten  ;  for  who  can  think  of  villanous 
smells,  or  heed  the  suffering  of  the  ear-racking  sounds,  while 
they  look  upon  hundreds  of  helpless  children,  divested  of  every 
trace  of  health,  of  joyousness,  and  even  of  youth !  Assuredly 
there  is  no  exaggeration  in  this  ;  for  except  only  in  their  diminu- 
tive size,  these  suffering  infants  have  no  trace  of  it.  Lean  and 


OF  ENGLAND.  163 

distorted  limbs,  sallow  and  sunken  cheeks,  dim  hollow  eyes, 
that  speak  unrest  and  most  unnatural  carefulness,  give  to  each 
tiny,  trembling,  unelastic  form,  a  look  of  hideous  premature  old 
age. 

"  But  in  the  room  they  entered,  the  dirty,  ragged,  miserable 
crew  were  all  in  active  performance  of  their  various  tasks ;  the 
overlookers,  strap  in  hand,  on  the  alert ;  the  whirling  spindles 
urging  the  little  slaves  who  waited  on  them  to  movements  as  un- 
ceasing as  their  own  ;  and  the  whole  monstrous  chamber  redolent 
of  all  the  various  impurities  that  '  by  the  perfection  of  our  manu- 
facturing system7  are  converted  into  '  gales  of  Araby'  for  the 
rich,  after  passing,  in  the  shape  of  certain  poison,  through  the 
lungs  of  the  poor.  So  Sir  Matthew  proudly  looked  about  him 
and  approved  ;  and  though  it  was  athwart  that  species  of  haughty 
frown  in  which  such  dignity  as  his  is  apt  to  clothe  itself,  Dr. 
Crockley  failed  not  to  perceive  that  his  friend  and  patron  was  in 
good  humour,  and  likely  to  be  pleased  by  any  light  and  lively 
jestings  in*  which  he  might  indulge.  Perceiving,  therefore,  that 
little  Michael  passed  on  with  downcast  eyes,  unrecognised  by 
any,  he  wrote  upon  a  slip  of  paper,  for  he  knew  his  voice  could 
not  be  heard — 'Make  the  boy  take  that  bare-legged  scavenger 
wench  round  the  neck,  and  give  her  a  kiss  while  she  is  next  lying 
down,  and  let  us  see  them  sprawling  together/ 

"  Sir  Matthew  read  the  scroll,  and  grinned  applause. 

"  The  miserable  creature  to  whom  the  facetious  doctor  pointed, 
was  a  little  girl  about  seven  years  old,  whose  office  as  '  scavenger' 
•was  to  collect  incessantly,  from  the  machinery  and  from  the  floor, 
the  flying  fragments  of  cotton  that  might  impede  the  work.  In 
the  performance  of  this  duty,  the  child  was  obliged,  from  time  to 
time,  to  stretch  itself  with  sudden  quickness  on  the  ground,  while 
the  hissing  machinery  passed  over  her ;  and  when  this  is  skilfully 
done,  and  the  head,  body,  and  outstretched  limbs  carefully  glued 
to  the'floor,  the  steady-moving  but  threatening  mass  may  pass  and 
repass  over  the  dizzy  head  and  trembling  body  without  touching 
it.  But  accidents  frequently  occur;  and  many  are  the  flaxen 
locks  rudely  torn  from  infant  heads,  in  the  process. 

"It  was  a  sort  of  vague  hope  that  something  comical  of  this  kind 


164  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

might  occur,  which  induced  Dr.  Crockley  to  propose  this  frolic  to 
his  friend,  and  probably  the  same  idea  suggested  itself  to  Sir 
Matthew  likewise. 

"  'I  say,  Master  Michael!7  vociferated  the  knight,  in  a  scream 
which  successfully  struggled  with  the  din,  *  show  your  old  ac- 
quaintance that  pride  has  not  got  the  upper  hand  of  you  in  your 
fine  clothes.  Take  scavenger  No.  3,  there,  round  the  neck ;  now 
— now — now,  as  she  lies  sprawling,  and  let  us  see  you  give  her  a 
hearty  kiss.' 

"The  stern  and  steady  machinery  moved  onward,  passing  over 
the  body  of  the  little  girl,  who  owed  her  safety  to  the  miserable 
leanness  of  her  shrunken  frame ;  but  Michael  moved  not. 

"  'Are  you  deaf,  you  little  vermin  ?'  roared  Sir  Matthew.  *  Now 
she's  down  again.  Do  what  I  bid  you,  or,  by  the  living  God,  you 
shall  smart  for  it !' 

"Still  Michael  did  not  stir,  neither  did  he  speak;  or  if  he  did, 
his  young  voice  was  wholly  inaudible,  and  the  anger  of  Sir  Mat- 
thew was  demonstrated  by  a  clenched  fist  and  threatening  brow. 
'  Where"  the  devil  is  Parsons  ?'  he  demanded,  in  accents  that  poor 
Michael  both  heard  and  understood.  '  Fine  as  he  is,  the  strap 
will  do  him  good/ 

"  In  saying  this,  the  great  man  turned  to  reconnoitre  the  space 
he  had  traversed,  and  by  which  his  confidential  servant  must 
approach,  and  found  that  he  was  already  within  a  good  yard 
of  him. 

"  '  That's  good — I  want  you,  Parsons.  Do  you  see  this  little 
rebel  here,  that  I  have  dressed  and  treated  like  one  of  my  own 
children  ?  "What  d'ye  think  of  his  refusing  to  kiss  Miss  No.  3, 
scavenger,  when  I  bid  him  ?' 

"  *  The  devil  he  does?'  said  the  manager,  grinning:  'we  must 
see  if  we  can't  mend  that.  Mind  your  hits,  Master  Piecer,  and 
salute  the  young  lady  when  the  mules  go  back,  like  a  gentle- 
man.' 

"  Sir  Matthew  perceived  that  his  favourite  agent  feared  to  enforce 
his  first  brutal  command,  and  was  forced,  therefore,  to  content 
himself  with  seeing  the  oiled  and  grimy  face  of  the  filthy  little 
girl  in  contact  with  that  of  the  now  clean  and  delicate-looking 


OF   ENGLAND.  165 

Michael.  But  he  felt  he  had  been  foiled,  and  cast  a  glance  upon 
his  proUgt,  which  seemed  to  promise  that  he  would  not  forget 
it." 

Nor  is  the  delineation,  in  the  following  verses,  by 
Francis  M.  Blake,  less  truthful  and  touching : — 


THE  FACTORY  CHILD. 

Early  one  winter's  morning, 

The  weather  wet  and  wild, 
Some  hours  before  the  dawning, 

A  father  call'd  his  child ; 
Her  daily  morsel  bringing, 

The  darksome  room  he  paced, 
And  cried,  "  The  bell  is  ringing — 

My  hapless  darling,  haste." 

"Father,  I'm  up,  but  weary, 

I  scarce  can  reach  the  door, 
And  long  the  way  and  dreary — 

Oh,  carry  me  once  more  1 
To  help  us  we've  no  mother, 

To  live  how  hard  we  try — 
They  kill'd  my  little  brother— 

Like  him  I'll  work  and  die  1" 

His  feeble  arms  they  bore  her, 
The  storm  was  loud  and  wild — 

God  of  the  poor  man,  hear  him ! 
He  prays,  "  Oh,  save  my  child !" 

Her  wasted  form  seem'd  nothing—- 
The load  was  in  his  heart ; 

The  suflerer  he  kept  soothing, 
Till  at  the  mill  they  part. 
H* 


166  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

The  overlooker  met  her, 

As  to  the  frame  she  crept, 
And  with  the  thong  he  beat  her, 

And  cursed  her  as  she  wept. 
Alas  1  what  hours  of  horror 

Made  up  her  latest  dayl 
In  toil,  and  pain,  and  sorrow, 

They  slowly  pass'd  away. 

It  seem'd,  as  she  grew  weaker, 

The  threads  the  oftener  broke, 
The  rapid  wheels  ran  quicker, 

And  heavier  fell  the  stroke. 
The  sun  had  long  descended, 

But  night  brought  no  repose : 
Her  day  began  and  ended 

As  her  taskmasters  chose. 


Then  to  her  little  neighbour 

Her  only  cent  she  paid, 
To  take  her  last  hour's  labour, 

While  by  her  frame  she  laid. 
At  last,  the  engine  ceasing, 

The  captives  homeward  flee, 
One  thought  her  strength  increasing- 

Her  parent  soon  to  see. 

She  left,  but  oft  she  tarried, 

She  fell,  and  rose  no  more, 
But  by  her  comrades  carried, 

She  reached  her  father's  door. 
All  night  with  tortured  feeling, 

He  watch'd  his  speechless  child ; 
While  close  beside  her  kneeling, 

She  knew  him  not,  nor  smiled. 


OF  ENGLAND.  167 

Again  the  loud  bell's  ringing, 

Her  last  perceptions  tried, 
When,  from  her  straw  bed  springing, 

"  'Tis  time  I"  she  shriek'd,  and— died. 
That  night  a  chariot  pass'd  her, 

While  on  the  ground  she  lay, 
The  daughters  of  her  master 

An  evening  visit  pay ; 
Their  tender  hearts  were  sighing, 

As  negro  wrongs  were  told, 
While  the  white  slave  was  dying, 

Who  gain'd  their  father's  gold  I 


168  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 


CHAPTER  IV. 

SLAVERY  IN  THE  BRITISH  WORKSHOPS. 

WHEN  Captain  Hugh  Clapperton,  the  celebrated 
English  traveller,  visited  Bello,  the  sultan  of  the 
Felatahs,  at  Sackatoo,  he  made  the  monarch  some  pre- 
sents, in  the  name  of  his  majesty  the  king  of  England. 
These  were — two  new  blunderbusses,  a  pair  of  double- 
barrelled  pistols,  a  pocket  compass,  an  embroidered 
jacket,  a  scarlet  bornonse,  a  pair  of  scarlet  breeches, 
thirty-four  yards  of  silk,  two  turban  shawls,  four 
pounds  of  cloves,  four  pounds  of  cinnamon,  three  cases 
of  gunpowder  with  shot  and  balls,  three  razors,  three 
clasp-knives,  three  looking-glasses,  six  snuff-boxes,  a 
spy-glass,  and  a  large  tea-tray.  The  sultan  said — 
"  Every  thing  is  wonderful,  but  you  are  the  greatest 
curiosity  of  all!"  and  then  added,  "What  can  I  give 
that  is  most  acceptable  to  the  king  of  England?" 
Clapperton  replied — «  The  most  acceptable  service  you 
can  render  to  the  king  of  England  is  to  co-operate  with 
his  majesty  in  putting  a  stop  to  the  slave-trade  on  the 
coast,  as  the  king  of  England  sends  large  ships  to 
cruise  there,  for  the  sole  purpose  of  seizing  all  vessels 


OF   ENGLAND.  169 

•engaged  in  this  trade,  whose  crews  are  thrown  into 
prison,  and  of  liberating  the  unfortunate  slaves,  on 
whom  lands  and  houses  are  conferred,  at  one  of  our 
settlements  in  Africa. "  "What!"  exclaimed  the  sul- 
tan, "have  you  no  slaves  in  England?"  "No:  when- 
ever a  slave  sets  his  foot  in  England,  he  is  from  that 
moment  free,"  replied  Clapperton.  "What  do  you 
then  do  for  servants?"  inquired  the  sultan.  "We  hire 
them  for  a  stated  period,  and  give  them  regular  wages ; 
nor  is  any  person  in  England  allowed  to  strike  another ; 
and  the  very  soldiers  are  fed,  clothed,  and  paid  by  the 
government,"  replied  the  English  captain.  "God  is 
great!"  exclaimed  the  sultan.  "You  are  a  beautiful 
people."  Clapperton  had  succeeded  in  putting  a  beau- 
tiful illusion  upon  the  sultan's  imagination,  as  some 
English  writers  have  endeavoured  to  do  among  the 
civilized  nations  of  the  earth.  If  the  sultan  had  been 
taken  to  England,  to  see  the  freedom  of  the  "servants" 
in  the  workshops,  perhaps  he  would  have  exclaimed — 
"  God  is  great !  Slaves  are  plenty." 

The  condition  of  the  apprentices  in  the  British 
workshops  is  at  least  as  bad  as  that  of  the  children  in 
the  factories.  According  to  the  second  report  of  the 
commissioners  appointed  by  Parliament,  the  degrading 
system  of  involuntary  apprenticeship — in  many  cases 
without  the  consent  of  parents — and  merely  according 
to  the  regulations  of  the  brutal  guardians  of  the  work- 
houses, is  general.  The  commissioners  say — 


1TO  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

"  That  in  some  trades,  those  especially  requiring  skilled  work- 
men, these  apprentices  are  bound  by  legal  indentures,  usually  at 
the  age  of  fourteen,  and  for  a  term  of  seven  years,  the  age  being 
rarely  younger,  and  the  period  of  servitude  very  seldom  longer ; 
but  by  far  the  greater  number  are  bound  without  any  presci*ibed 
legal  forms,  and  in  almost  all  these  cases  they  are  required  to 
serve  their  masters,  at  whatever  age  they  may  commence  their  ap- 
prenticeship, until  they  attain  the  age  of  twenty-one,  in  some  in- 
stances in  employments  in  which  there  is  nothing  deserving  the 
name  of  skill  to  be  acquired,  and  in  other  instances  in  employ- 
ments in  which  they  are  taught  to  make  only  one  particular  part 
of  the  article  manufactured :  so  that  at  the  end  of  their  servitude 
they  are  altogether  unable  to  make  any  one  article  of  their  trade  in 
a  complete  state.  That  a  large  proportion  of  these  apprentices 
consist  of  orphans,  or  are  the  children  of  widows,  or  belong  to 
the  very  poorest  families,  and  frequently  are  apprenticed  by 
boards  of  guardians. 

"  That  in  these  districts  it  is  common  for  parents  to  borrow 
money  of  the  employers,  and  to  stipulate,  by  express  agreement, 
to  repay  it  from  their  children's  wages ;  a  practice  which  prevails 
likewise  in  Birmingham  and  Warrington :  in  most  other  places 
no  evidence  was  discovered  of  its  existence.7' — Second  Report  of 
the  Commissioners,  p.  195,  196. 

Here  we  have  a  fearful  text  on  which  to  comment. 
In  these  few  sentences  we  see  the  disclosure  of  a  sys- 
tem which,  if  followed  out  and  abused,  must  produce  a 
state  of  slavery  of  the  very  worst  and  most  oppressive 
character.  To  show  that  it  is  thus  abused,  here  aro 
some  extracts  from  the  Reports  on  the  Wolverhampton 
district,  to  which  the  Central  Board  of  Commissioners 
direct  special  attention : — 

"  The  peculiar  trade  of  the  Wolverhampton  district,  with  the 
exception  of  a  very  few  large  proprietors,  is  in  the  hands  of  a 


OF   ENGLAND.  171 

great  number  of  small  masters,  who  are  personally  known  only  to 
some  of  the  foremen  of  the  factors  to  whom  they  take  their  work, 
and  scarcely  one  of  whom  is  sufficiently  important  to  have  his  name 
over  his  door  or  his  workshop  in  front  of  a  street.  In  the  town  of 
Wolverhampton  alone  there  are  of  these  small  masters,  for  example, 
two  hundred  and  sixty  locksmiths,  sixty  or  seventy  key-makers, 
from  twenty  to  thirty  screw-makers,  and  a  like  number  of  latch, 
bolt,  snuffer,  tobacco-box,  and  spectacle  frame  and  case  makers. 
Each  of  these  small  masters,  if  they  have  not  children  of  their 
own,  generally  employ  from  one  to  three  apprentices." — Home, 
Report ;  App.  pt.  ii.  p.  2.  s.  13  et  seq. 

The  workshops  of  the  small  masters  are  usually  of 
the  dirtiest,  most  dilapidated,  and  confined  description, 
and  situated  in  the  most  filthy  and  undrained  localities, 
at  the  back  of  their  wretched  abodes. 

"  There  are  two  modes  of  obtaining  apprentices  in  this  district, 
namely,  the  legal  one  of  application  to  magistrates  or  boards  of 
guardians  for  sanction  of  indentures ;  and,  secondly,  the  illegal 
mode  of  taking  the  children  to  be  bound  by  an  attorney,  without 
any  such  reference  to  the  proper  authorities.  There  are  many 
more  bound  by  this  illegal  mode  than  by  the  former. 

"  In  all  cases,  the  children,  of  whatever  age,  are  bound  till  they 
attain  the  age  of  twenty-one  years.  If  the  child  be  only  seven 
years  of  age,  the  period  of  servitude  remains  the  same,  however 
simple  the  process  or  nature  of  the  trade  to  be  learnt.  During 
the  first  year  or  two,  if  the  apprentice  be  very  young,  he  is 
merely  used  to  run  errands,  do  dirty  household  work,  nurse  in- 
fants, &c. 

"If  the  master  die  before  the  apprentice  attain  the  age  of 
twenty-one  years,  the  apprentice  is  equally  bound  as  the  servant 
of  his  deceased  master's  heirs,  executors,  administrators,  and 
assigns — in  fact,  the  apprentice  is  part  of  the  deceased  master's 
goods  and  chattels.  Whoever,  therefore,  may  carry  on  the  trade, 
he  is  the  servant  of  such  person  or  persons  until  his  manumission 


172  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

is  obtained  by  reaching  his  one-and-twentieth  year.  The .  ap- 
prentice has  no  regular  pocket-money  allowed  him  by  the  master. 
Sometimes  a  few  halfpence  are  given  to  him.  An  apprentice  of 
eighteen  or  nineteen  years  of  age  often  has  2d.  or  3cZ.  a  week 
given  him,  but  never  as  a  rightful  claim. " — Second  Report  of 
Oomm  iss  ioners. 

"  Among  other  witnesses,  the  superintendent  registrar  states 
that  in  those  trades  particularly  in  which  the  work  is  by  the 
piece,  the  growth  of  the  children  is  injured ;  that  in  these  cases 
more  especially  their  strength  is  over-taxed  for  profit.  One  of  the 
constables  of  the  town  says  that  *  there  are  examples  without 
number  in  the  place,  of  deformed  men  and  boys ;  their  backs  or 
their  legs,  and  often  both,  grow  wrong ;  the  backs  grow  out  and 
the  legs  grow  in  at  the  knees — hump-backed  and  knock-kneed. 
There  is  most  commonly  only  one  leg  turned  in — a  K  leg ;  it  is 
occasioned  by  standing  all  day  for  years  filing  at  a  vice  ;  the  hind 
leg  grows  in — the  leg  that  is  hinderinost.  Thinks  that  among  the 
adults  of  the  working  classes  of  "YVillenhall,  whose  work  is  all 
forging  and  filing,  one-third  of  the  number  are  afflicted  with 
hernia/  &c." — Home,  Evidence,  p.  28,  No.  128. 

As  the  profits  of  many  of  the  masters  are  small,  it 
may  be  supposed  that  the  apprentices  do  not  get  the 
best  of  food,  shelter,  and  clothing.  We  have  the  evi- 
dence of  Henry  Nicholls  Payne,  superintendent  regis- 
trar of  Wolverhampton,  Henry  Hill,  Esq.,  magistrate, 
and  Paul  Law,  of  Wolverhampton,  that  it  is  common 
for  masters  to  buy  offal  meat,  and  the  meat  of  animals 
that  have  died  from  all  manner  of  causes,  for  the  food 
of  apprentices.  The  clothing  of  these  poor  creatures 
is  but  thin  tatters  for  all  seasons.  The  apprentices 
constantly  complain  that  they  do  not  get  enough  to 
eat. 


OF   ENGLAND.  173 

"  They  are  .frequently  fed,"  says  the  sub-commissioner,  "  es- 
pecially during  the  winter  season,  on  red  herrings,  potatoes, 
bread  with  lard  upon  it,  and  have  not  always  sufficient  even  of 
this. 

"  Their  living  is  poor  ;  they  have  not  enough  to  eat.  Did  not 
know  what  it  was  to  have  butcher's  meat  above  once  a  week ; 
often  a  red  herring  was  divided  between  two  for  dinner.  The 
boys  are  often  clemmed,  (almost  starved;)  have  often  been  to 
his  house  to  ask  for  a  bit  of  pudding — are  frequent  complaints. 
In  some  trades,  particularly  in  the  casting-shops  of  founderies, 
in  the  shops  in  which  general  forge  or  smith's  work  is  done,  and 
in  the  shops  of  the  small  locksmiths,  screwmakers,  &c.,  there  are 
no  regular  meal-hours,  but  the  children  swallow  their  food  as  they 
can,  during  their  work,  often  while  noxious  fumes  or  dust  are  flying 
about,  and  perhaps  with  noxious  compositions  in  their  unwashed 
hands." 

The  apprentices  employed  in  nail-making  are  de- 
scribed as  so  many  poorly  fed  and  poorly  clad  slaves. 
Almost  the  whole  population  of  Upper  Sedgley  and 
Upper  Gormal,  and  nearly  one-half  of  the  population 
of  Coseley,  are  employed  in  nail-making.  The  nails  are 
made  at  forges  by  the  hammer,  and  these  forges,  which 
are  the  workshops,  are  usually  at  the  backs  of  the 
wretched  hovels  in  which  the  work-people  reside. 
"The  best  kind  of  forges,"  says  Mr.  Home,  "are  little 
brick  shops,  of  about  fifteen  feet  long  and  twelve  feet 
wide,  in  which  seven  or  eight  individuals  constantly 
work  together,  with  no  ventilation  except  the  door,  and 
two  slits,  or  loopholes,  in  the  wall ;  but  the  great 
majority  of  these  work-places  are  very  much  smaller, 
(about  ten  feet  long  by  nine  wide,)  filthily  dirty;  and  on 


174  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

looking  in  upon  one  of  them  when  the  fire  is  not 
lighted,  presents  the  appearance  of  a  dilapidated  coal- 
hole, or  little  black  den."  In  these  places  children 
are  first  put  to  labour  from  the  ages  of  seven  to  eight, 
where  they  continue  to  work  daily,  from  six  o'clock  in 
the  morning  till  seven  or  eight  at  night ;  and  on  weigh- 
days — the  days  the  nails  are  taken  to  the  factors — from 
three  or  four  in  the  morning  till  nine  at  night.  They 
gradually  advance  in  the  number  of  nails  they  are  re- 
quired to  make  per  day,  till  they  arrive  at  the  stint  of 
one  thousand.  A  girl  or  boy  of  from  ten  to  twelve 
years  of  age  continually  accomplishes  this  arduous 
task  from  day  to  day,  and  week  to  week.  Their  food 
at  the  same  time  is,  in  general,  insufficient,  their  clothing 
miserable,  and  the  wretchedness  of  their  dwellings 
almost  unparalleled. 

"  Throughout  the  long  descent  of  the  main  roadway,  or  rather 
eludgeway,  of  Lower  Gormal,"  says  Mr.  Home,  "  and  throughout 
the  very  long  winding  and  straggling  roadway  of  Coseley,  I  never 
saw  one  abode  of  a  working  family  which  had  the  least  appear- 
ance of  comfort  or  wholesomeness,  while  the  immense  majority 
were  of  the  most  wretched  and  sty-like  description.  The  effect 
of  these  unfavourable  circumstances  is  greatly  to  injure  the 
health  of  the  children,  and  to  stop  their  growth ;  and  it  is  re- 
markable that  the  boys  are  more  injured  than  the  girls,  because 
the  girls  are  not  put  to  work  as  early  as  the  boys  by  two  years  or 
more.  They  appear  to  bear  the  heat  of  the  forges  better,  and 
they  sometimes  even  become  strong  by  their  work." 

The  children  employed  in  nail-making,  in  Scotland, 
evince  the  nature  of  their  toil  by  their  emaciated  looks 


OF  ENGLAND.  175 

and  stunted  growth.  They  are  clothed  in  apparel  in 
which  many  paupers  would  not  dress;  and  they  are 
starved  into  quickness  at  their  work,  as  their  meals 
depend  on  the  quantity  of  work  accomplished. 

Jn  the  manufacture  of  earthenware  there  are  many 
young  slaves  employed.  The  mould-runners  are  an 
especially  pitiable  class  of  workmen ;  they  receive  on  a 
mould  the  ware  as  it  is  formed  by  the  workmen,  and 
carry  it  to  the  stove-room,  where  both  mould  and  ware 
are  arranged  on  shelves  to  dry.  The  same  children 
liberate  the  mould  when  sufficiently  dry,  and  carry  it 
back  to  receive  a  fresh  supply  of  ware,  to  be  in  like 
manner  deposited  on  the  shelves.  They  are  also  gene- 
rally required  by  the  workmen  to  "wedge  their  clay;" 
that  is,  to  lift  up  large  lumps  of  clay,  which  are  to  be 
thrown  down  forcibly  on  a  hard  surface  to  free  the  clay 
from  air  and  to  render  it  more  compact.  Excepting 
when  thus  engaged,  they  are  constantly  "on  the  run" 
from  morning  till  night,  always  carrying  a  considerable 
weight.  These  children  are  generally  pale,  thin,  weak, 
and  unhealthy. 

In  the  manufacture  of  glass  the  toil  and  suffering  of 
the  apprentices,  as  recorded  in  the  evidence  before  the 
commissioners,  are  extreme.  One  witness  said — 

"  From  his  experience  he  thinks  the  community  has  no  idea  of 
what  a  boy  at  a  bottle- work  goes  through ;  '  it  would  never  be 
allowed,  if  it  were  known;'  he  knows  himself;  he  has  been  car- 
ried home  from  fair  fatigue ;  and  on  two  several  occasions,  when 
laid  in  bed,  could  not  rest,  and  had  to  be  taken  out  and  laid  on 


176  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

the  floor.  These  boys  begin  work  on  Sabbath  evenings  at  ten 
o'clock,  and  are  not  at  home  again  till  between  one  and  three  on 
Monday  afternoon.  The  drawing  the  bottles  out  of  the  arches  is 
a  work  which  no  child  should  be  allowed,  on  any  consideration, 
to  do;  he  himself  has  been  obliged  several  times  to  have  planks 
put  in  to  walk  on,  which  have  caught  fire  under  the  feet ;  and  a 
woollen  cap  over  the  ears  and  always  mits  on  the  hands ;  and  a 
boy  cannot  generally  stop  in  them  above  five  minutes.  There  is 
no  man  that  works  in  a  bottle-work,  but  will  corroborate  the 
statement  that  such  work  checks  the  growth  of  the  body ;  the  irre- 
gularity and  the  unnatural  times  of  work  cause  the  boys  and  men 
to  feel  in  a  sort  of  stupor  or  dulness  from  heavy  sweats  and  irre- 
gular hours.  The  boys  work  harder  than  any  man  in  the  works ; 
all  will  allow  that.  From  their  experience  of  the  bad  effect  on 
the  health,  witness  and  five  others  left  the  work,  and  none  but 
one  ever  went  to  a  bottle-work  after." 

The  young  females  apprenticed  to  dress-makers  suffer 
greatly  from  overwork  and  bad  treatment,  as  has  long 
been  knpwn.  John  Dalrymple,  Esq.,  Assistant  Surgeon, 
Koyal  London  Ophthalmic  Hospital,  narrates  the  fol- 
lowing case : — 

"  A  delicate  and  beautiful  young  woman,  an  orphan,  applied 
at  the  hospital  for  very  defective  vision,  and  her  symptoms  were 
precisely  as  just  described.  Upon  inquiry  it  was  ascertained  that 
she  had  been  apprenticed  to  a  milliner,  and  was  in  her  last  year 
of  indontureship.  Her  working  hours  were  eighteen  in  the  day, 
occasionally  even  more ;  her  meals  were  snatched  with  scarcely 
an  interval  of  a  few  minutes  from  work,  and  Tier  general  health 
was  evidently  assuming  a  tendency  to  consumption.  An  appeal 
was  made,  by  my  directions,  to  her  mistress  for  relaxation ;  but 
the  reply  was  that,  in  the  last  year  of  her  apprenticeship,  her 
labours  had  become  valuable,  and  that  her  mistress  was  entitled  to 
them  as  a  recompense  for  teaching.  Subsequently  a  threat  of  ap- 
peal to  the  Lord  Mayor,  and  a  belief  that  a  continuation  of  tho 


OF   ENGLAND.  177 

occupation  would  soon  render  the  apprentice  incapable  of  labour, 
induced  the  mistress  to  cancel  the  indentures,  and  the  victim  was 
saved." 

Frederick  Tyrrell,  Esq.,  Surgeon  to  the  London  Oph- 
thalmic Hospital,  and  to  St.  Thomas's  Hospital,  men- 
tions a  case  equally  distressing : — 

"  A  fair  and  delicate  girl,  about  seventeen  years  of  age,  was 
brought  to  witness  in  consequence  of  total  loss  of  vision.  She 
had  experienced  the  train  of  symptoms  which  have  been  detailed, 
to  the  fullest  extent.  On  examination,  both  eyes  were  found  dis- 
organized, and  recovery  therefore  was  hopeless.  She  had  been 
an  apprentice  as  a  dress-maker  at  the  west  end  of  the  town;  and 
some  time  before  her  vision  became  affected,  her  general  health 
had  been  materially  deranged  from  too  close  confinement  and 
excessive  work.  The  immediate  cause  of  the  disease  in  the  eyes 
was  excessive  and  continued  application  to  making  mourning. 
She  stated  that  she  had  been  compelled  to  remain  without  chang- 
ing her  dress  for  nine  days  and  nights  consecutively ;  that  during 
this  period  she  had  been  permitted  only  occasionally  to  rest  on  a 
mattrass  placed  on  the  floor,  for  an  hour  or  two  at  a  time ;  and 
that  her  meals  were  placed  at  her  side,  cut  up,  so  that  as  little 
time  as  possible  should  be  spent  in  their  consumption.  Witness 
regrets  that  he  did  not,  in  this  and  a  few  other  cases  nearly  as 
flagrant  and  distressing,  induce  the  sufferers  to  appeal  to  a  jury 
for  compensation." 

It  may  be  asserted,  without  fear  of  successful  contra- 
diction, that,  in  proportion  to  the  numbers  employed, 
there  are  no  occupations  in  which  so  much  disease  is 
produced  as  in  dress-making.  The  report  of  a  sub- 
commissioner  states  that  it  is  a  "  serious  aggravation 
of  this  evil,  that  the  unkindness  of  the  employer  very 
frequently  causes  these  young  persons,  when  they  be- 


178  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

come  unwell,  to  conceal  their  illness,  from  the  fear  of 
being  sent  out  of  the  house ;  and  in  this  manner  the 
disease  often  becomes  increased  in  severity,  or  is  even 
rendered  incurable.  Some  of  the  principals  are  so 
cruel,  as  to  object  to  the  young  women  obtaining  medi- 
cal assistance." 

The  London  Times,  in  an  exceedingly  able  article 
upon  "  Seamstress  Slavery,"  thus  describes  the  terrible 
system : — 

"Granting  that  the  negro  gangs  who  are  worked  on  the  cotton 
grounds  of  the  Southern  States  of  North  America,  or  in  the  sugar 
plantations  of  Brazil,  are  slaves,  in  what  way  should  we  speak 
of  persons  who  are  circumstanced  in  the  manner  we  are  about  to 
relate  ?  Let  us  consider  them  as  inhabitants  of  a  distant  region 
— say  of  New  Orleans — no  matter  about  the  colour  of  their  skins, 
and  then  ask  ourselves  what  should  be  our  opinion  of  a  nation  in 
which  such  things  are  tolerated.  They  are  of  a  sex  and  age  the 
least  qualified  to  struggle  with  the  hardships  of  their  lot — young 
women,  for  the  most  part,  between  sixteen  and  thirty  years  of 
age.  As  we  would  not  deal  in  exaggerations,  we  would  promise 
that  we  take  them  at  their  busy  season,  just  as  writers  upon 
American  slavery  are  careful  to  select  the  season  of  cotton-pick- 
ing and  sugar-crushing  as  illustrations  of  their  theories.  Tho 
young  female  slaves,  then,  of  whom  we  speak,  are  worked  in 
gangs,  in  ill-ventilated  rooms,  or  rooms  that  are  not  ventilated  at 
all ;  for  it  is  found  by  experience  that  if  air  be  admitted  it  brings 
with  it  "  blacks"  of  another  kind,  which  damage  the  work  upon 
which  the  seamstresses  are  employed.  Their  occupation  is  to 
sew  from  morning  till  night  and  night  till  morning — stitch,  stitch, 
stitch — without  pause,  without  speech,  without  a  smile,  without  a 
sigh.  In  the  gray  of  the  morning  they  must  be  at  work,  say  at 
six  o'clock,  having  a  quarter  of  an  hour  allowed  them  for  break- 
ing their  fast.  The  food  served  out  to  them  is  scanty  and  mise- 


OF  ENGLAND.  179 

table  enough,  but  still,  in  all  probability,  more  than  their  fevered 
system  can  digest.  We  do  not,  however,  wish  to  makeou'  a  case 
of  starvation ;  the  suffering  is  of  another  kind,  equally  dreadful 
of  endurance.  From  six  o'clock  till  eleven  it  is  stitch,  stitch.  At 
eleven  a  small  piece  of  dry  bread  is  served  to  each  seamstress, 
but  still  she  must  stitch  on.  At  one  o'clock,  twenty  minutes  are 
allowed  for  dinner — a  slice  of  meat  and  a  potato,  with  a  glass  of 
toast-and-water  to  each  workwoman.  Then  again  to  work — stitch, 
stitch,  until  five  o'clock,  when  fifteen  minutes  are  again  allowed 
for  tea.  The  needles  are  then  set  in  motion  once  more — stitch, 
stitch,  until  nine  o'clock,  when  fifteen  minutes  are  allowed  for 
supper — a  piece  of  dry  bread  and  cheese  and  a  glass  of  beer. 
From  nine  o'clock  at  night  until  one,  two,  and  three  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  stitch,  stitch ;  the  only  break  in  this  long  period 
being  a  minute  or  two — -just  time  enough  to  swallow  a  cup  of 
strong  tea,  which  is  supplied  lest  the  young  people  should  *  feel 
sleepy.'  At  three  o'clock  A.  M.,  to  bed;  at  six  o'clock  A.  M., 
out  of  it  again  to  resume  the  duties  of  the  following  day.  There 
must  be  a  good  deal  of  monotony  in  the  occupation. 

"  But  when  we  have  said  that  for  certain  months  in  the  year 
these  unfortunate  young  persons  are  worked  in  the  manner  we 
describe,  we  have  not  said  all.  Even  during  the  few  hours  al- 
lotted to  sleep — should  we  not  rather  say  to  a  feverish  cessation 
from  toil — their  miseries  continue.  They  are  cooped  up  in  sleep- 
ing-pens, ten  in  a  room  which  would  perhaps  be  sufficient  for  the 
accommodation  of  two  persons.  The  alternation  is  from  the 
treadmill — and  what  a  treadmill! — to  the  Black  Hole  of  Cal- 
cutta. Not  a  word  of  remonstrance  is  allowed,  or  is  possible. 
The  seamstresses  may  leave  the  mill,  no  doubt,  but  what  awaits 
them  on  the  other  side  of  the  door  ? — starvation,  if  they  be  honest ; 
if  not,  in  all  probability,  prostitution  and  its  consequence.  They 
would  scarcely  escape  from  slavery  that  way.  Surely  this  is  a 
terrible  state  of  things,  and  one  which  claims  the  anxious  con- 
sideration of  the  ladies  of  England  who  have  pronounced  them- 
selves so  loudly  against  the  horrors  of  negro  slavery  in  the  United 
States.  Had  this  system  of  oppression  against  persons  of  their 
own  sex  been  really  exercised  in  New  Orleans,  it  would  have 


180  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

elicited  from  them  many  expressions  of  sympathy  for  the  suffer- 
ers, a;^d  of  abhorrence  for  the  cruel  task-masters  who  could  so 
cruelly  overwork  wretched  creatures  so  unfitted  for  the  toil. 
It  is  idle  to  use  any  further  mystification  in  the  matter.  The 
scenes  of  misery  we  have  described  exist  at  our  own  doors,  and 
in  the  most  fashionable  quarters  of  luxurious  London.  It  is  in 
the  dressmaking  and  millinery  establishments  of  the  *  West-end' 
that  the  system  is  steadily  pursued.  The  continuous  labour  is  be- 
stowed upon  the  gay  garments  in  which  the  *  ladies  of  England' 
love  to  adorn  themselves.  It  is  to  satisfy  their  whims  and  ca- 
prices that  their  wretched  sisters  undergo  these  days  and  nights 
of  suffering  and  toil.  It  is  but  right  that  we  should  confess  the 
fault  does  not  lie  so  much  at  the  door  of  the  customers  as  with 
the  principals  of  these  establishments.  The  milliners  and  dress- 
makers of  the  metropolis  will  not  employ  hands  enough  to  do  the 
work.  They  increase  their  profits  from  the  blood  and  life  of  the 
wretched  creatures  in  their  employ.  Certainly  the  prices  charged 
for  articles  of  dress  at  any  of  the  great  West-end  establishments 
are  sufficiently  high — as  most  English  heads  of  families  know  to 
their  cost — to  enable  the  proprietors  to  retain  a  competent  staff 
of  work-people,  and  at  the  same  time  to  secure  a  very  handsome 
profit  to  themselves.  Wherein,  then,  lies  the  remedy  ?  Will  the 
case  of  these  poor  seamstresses  be  bettered  if  the  ladies  of  England 
abstain  partially,  or  in  great  measure,  from  giving  their  usual 
orders  to  their  usual  houses  ?  In  that  case  it  may  be  said  some 
of  the  seamstresses  will  be  dismissed  to  starvation,  and  the  re- 
mainder will  be  overworked  as  before.  We  freely  confess  we  do 
not  see  our  way  through  the  difficulty ;  for  we  hold  the  most  im- 
probable event  in  our  social  arrangements  to  be  the  fact,  that  a 
lady  of  fashion  will  employ  a  second-rate  instead  of  a  first-rate 
house  for  the  purchase  of  her  annual  finery.  The  leading  mil- 
liners and  dressmakers  of  London  have  hold  of  English  society 
at  both  ends.  They  hold  the  ladies  by  their  vanity  and  their 
love  of  fine  clothes,  and  the  seamstresses  by  what  appears  to  be 
their  interest  and  by  their  love  of  life.  Now,  love  of  fine 
clothes  and  love  of  life  are  two  very  strong  motive  springs  of 
human  action." 


SLAVES     OF     THE     NEEDLE. 


OF   ENGLAND.  181 

In  confirmation  of  this  thrilling  representation  of  the 
seamstress  slavery  in  London,  the  following  letter  sub- 
sequently appeared  in  the  Times  : — 

"  To  the  Editor  of  the  Times : 

"  Sir, — May  I  beg  of  you  to  insert  this  letter  in  your  valuable 
paper  at  your  earliest  convenience,  relative  to  the  letters  of  the 
'  First  Hand  ?'  I  can  state,  without  the  slightest  hesitation,  that 
they  are  perfectly  true.  My  poor  sister  was  apprenticed  to  one 
of  those  fashionable  West-end  houses,  and  my  father  paid  the 
large  sum  of  £40  only  to  procure  for  his  daughter  a  lingering 
death.  I  was  allowed  to  visit  her  during  her  illness  ;  I  found  her 
in  a  very  small  room,  which  two  large  beds  would  fill.  In  this 
room  there  were  six  children's  bedsteads,  and  these  were  each  to 
contain  three  grown-up  young  women.  In  consequence  of  my 
sister  being  so  ill,  she  was  allowed,  on  payment  of  5s.  per  week, 
a  bed  to  herself — one  so  small  it  might  be  called  a  cradle.  The 
doctor  who  attended  her  when  dying,  can  authenticate  this  letter. 

"Apologizing  for  encroaching  on  your  valuable  time,  I  remain 
your  obedient  servant,  A  POOR  CLERK. ;> 

Many  witnesses  attest  the  ferocious  bodily  chastise- 
ment inflicted  upon  male  apprentices  in  workshops  : — 

"  In  Seclgley  they  are  sometimes  struck  with  a  red-hot  iron, 
and  burned  and  bruised  simultaneously;  sometimes  they  have 
'  a  flash  of  lightning'  sent  at  them.  When  a  bar  of  iron  is  drawn 
white-hot  from  the  forge  it  emits  fiery  particles,  which  the  man 
commonly  flings  in  a  shower  upon  the  ground  by  a  swing  of  his 
arm,  before  placing  the  bar  upon  the  anvil.  This  shower  is  some- 
times directed  at  the  boy.  It  may  come  over  his  hands  and  face, 
his  naked  arms,  or  on  his  breast.  If  his  shirt  be  open  in  front, 
which  is  usually  the  case,  the  red-hot  particles  are  lodged  therein, 
and  he  has  to  shake  them  out  as  fast  as  he  can." — Home,  Report, 
p.  76,  §  757.  See  also  witnesses,  p.  56,  1.  24;  p.  59,  1.  54. 

"  In  Darlaston,  however,  the  children  appear  to  be  very  little 
I 


182  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

beaten,  and  in  Eilston  there  were  only  a  few  instances  of  cruel 
treatment :  '  the  boys  are  kicked  and  cuffed  abundantly,  but  not 
with  any  vicious  or  cruel  intention,  and  only  with  an  "idea  that 
this  is  getting  the  work  done/  "•— Ibid.  p.  62,  65,  gg  660,  688. 

"In  Wednesbury  the  treatment  is  better  than  in  any  other 
town  in  the  district.  The  boys  are  not  generally  subject  to  any 
severe  corporal  chastisement,  though  a  few  cases  of  ill-treament 
occasionally  occur.  *  A  few  months  ago  an  adult  workman  broke 
a  boy's  arm  by  a  blow  with  a  piece  of  iron ;  the  boy  went  to  school 
till  his  arm  got  well ;  his  father  and  mother  thought  it  a  good 
opportunity  to  give  him  some  schooling/  " — Ibid.  Evidence,  No. 
331. 

"  But  the  class  of  children  in  this  district  the  most  abused  and 
oppressed  are  the  apprentices,  and  particularly  those  who  are 
bound  to  the  small  masters  among  the  locksmiths,  key  and  bolt 
makers,  screwmakers,  &c.  Even  among  these  small  masters, 
there  are  respectable  and  humane  men,  who  do  not  suffer  any 
degree  of  poverty  to  render  them  brutal ;  but  many  of  these  men 
treat  their  apprentices  not  so  much  with  neglect  and  harshness, 
as  with  ferocious  violence,  the  result  of  unbridled  passions,  ex- 
cited often  by  ardent  spirits,  acting  on  bodies  exhausted  by  over- 
work, and  on  minds  which  have  never  received  the  slightest  moral 
or  religious  culture,  and  which,  therefore,  never  exercise  the 
smallest  moral  or  religious  restraint." — Ibid. 

Evidence  from  all  classes, — masters,  journeymen,  re- 
sidents, magistrates,  clergymen,  constables,  and,  above 
all,  from  the  mouths  of  the  poor  oppressed  sufferers 
themselves,  is  adduced  to  a  heart-breaking  extent.  The 
public  has  been  excited  to  pity  by  Dickens's  picture  of 
Smike — in  Willenhall,  there  are  many  Smikes. 


" ,  aged  sixteen:  'His  master  stints  him  from  six  in 

the  morning  till  ten  and  sometimes  eleven  at  night,  as  much  as 
ever  he  can  do ;  and  if  he  don't  do  it,  his  master  gives  him  no 
supper,  and  gives  him  a  good  hiding,  sometimes  with  a  big  strap, 


OF   ENGLAND.  183 

sometimes  with  a  big  stick.  His  master  has  cut  his  head  open  five 
times — once  with  a  key  and  twice  with  a  lock ;  knocked  the  cor- 
ner of  a  lock  into  his  head  twice — once  with  an  iron  bolt,  and 
once  with  an  iron  shut — a  thing  that  runs  into  the  staple.  His 

master's  name  is ,  of  Little  London.  There  is  another 

apprentice  besides  him,  who  is  treated  just  as  bad/  ;; — Ibid.  p. 
32,  1.  4. 

" ,  aged  fifteen :  'Works  at  knob-locks  with . 

Is  a  fellow-apprentice  with .  Lives  in  the  house  of  his 

master.  Is  beaten  by  his  master,  who  hits  him  sometimes  with 
his  fists,  and  sometimes  with  the  file-haft,  and  sometimes  with  a 
stick — it's  no  matter  what  when  he's  a  bit  cross  ;  sometimes  hits 
him  with  the  locks ;  has  cut  his  head  open  four  or  five  times ;  so 
he  has  his  fellow  apprentice's  head.  Once  when  he  cut  his  head 
open  with  a  key,  thinks  half  a  pint  of  blood  run  off  him/  " — Ibid, 
p.  32,  1.  19. 

" ,  aged  fourteen:  'Has  been  an  in-door  apprentice 

three  years.  Has  no  wages ;  nobody  gets  any  wages  for  him. 
Has  to  serve  till  he  is  twenty-one.  His  master  behaves  very  bad. 
His  mistress  behaves  worse,  like  a  devil ;  she  beats  him ;  knocks 
his  head  against  the  wall.  His  master  goes  out  a-drinking,  and 
when  he  comes  back,  if  any  thing's  gone  wrong  that  he  (the  boy) 
knows  nothing  about,  he  is  beat  all  the  same/  " — Ibid.  p.  32. 1. 36. 

" ,  aged  sixteen:  'His  master  sometimes  hits  him 

with  his  fist,  sometimes  kicks  him ;  gave  him  the  black  eye  he 
has  got;  beat  him  in  bed  while  he  was  asleep,  at  five  in  the 
morning,  because  he  was  not  up  to  work.  He  came  up-stairs 
and  set  about  him — set  about  him  with  his  fist.  Has  been  over 
to  the  public  office,  Brummagem,  to  complain;  took  a  note  with 
him,  which  was  written  for  him ;  his  brother  gave  it  to  the  pub- 
lic office  there,  but  they  would  not  attend  to  it ;  they  said  they 
could  do  no  good,  and  gave  the  note  back.  He  had  been  beaten 
at  that  time  with  a  whip-handle — it  made  wales  all  down  his  arms 
and  back  and  all ;  everybody  he  showed  it  to  said  it  was  scandal- 
ous. "Wishes  he  could  be  released  from  his  master,  who's  never 
easy  but  when  he's  a-beating  of  me.  Never  has  enough  to  eat  at 
no  time ;  ax  him  for  more,  he  won't  gie  it  me/  " — Ibid.  p.  30, 1.  5. 


184  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 


" ,  aged  seventeen :  *  Has  no  father  or  mother  to  take 

his  part.  His  master  once  cut  his  head  open  with  a  flat  file-haft, 
and  used  to  pull  his  ears  nearly  off;  they  bled  so  he  was  obliged  to 
go  into  the  house  to  wipe  them  with  a  cloth/  " — Ibid.  p.  37,  1.  7. 

" ,  aged  fifteen:  'The  neighbours  who  live  agen  the 

shop  will  say  how  his  master  beats  him  ;  beats  him  with  a  strap, 
and  sometimes  a  nut-stick ;  sometimes  the  wales  remain  upon 
him  for  a  week ;  his  master  once  cut  his  eyelid  open,  cut  a  hole 
in  it,  and  it  bled  all  over  his  files  that  he  was  working  with.' " — 
Ibid.  p.  37,  1.  47. 

" ,  aged  18 :  '  His  master  once  ran  at  him  with  a 

hammer,  and  drove  the  iron-head  of  the  hammer  into  his  side — 
he  felt  it  for  weeks ;  his  master  often  knocks  him  down  on  the 
shop-floor ;  he  can't  tell  what  it's  all  for,  no  more  than  you  can ; 
don't  know  what  it  can  be  for  unless  it's  this,  his  master  thinks 
he  don't  do  enough  work  for  him.  When  he  is  beaten,  his  master 
does  not  lay  it  on  very  heavy,  as  some  masters  do,  only  beats  him 
for  five  minutes  at  a  time ;  should  think  that  was  enough, 
though/  " — Home,  Evidence,  p.  37,  1.  57. 

All  this  exists  in  a  Christian  land  !  Surely  telescopic 
philanthropists  must  be  numerous  in  Great  Britain. 
Wonderful  to  relate,  there  are  many  persons  instru- 
mental in  sustaining  this  barbarous  system,  who  pro- 
fess a  holy  horror  of  slavery,  and  who  seldom  rise  up 
or  lie  down  without  offering  prayers  on  behalf  of  the 
African  bondsmen,  thousands  of  miles  away.  Verily, 
there  are  many  people  in  this  motley  world  so  organized 
that  they  can  scent  corruption  "afar  off,"  but  gain  no 
knowledge  of  the  foulness  under  their  very  noses. 

Henry  Mayhew,  in  his  "London  Labour  and  the 
London  Poor,"  gives  some  very  interesting  information 
in  regard  to  the  workshops  in  the  great  metropolis  of 


OF   ENGLAND.  185 

the  British  Empire.  "  In  the  generality  of  trades,  the 
calculation  is  that  one-third  of  the  hands  are  fully  em- 
ployed, one- third  partially,  and  one-third  unemployed 
throughout  the  year."  The  wages  of  those  who  are 
regularly  employed  being  scant,  what  must  be  the  con- 
dition of  those  whose  employment  is  but  casual  and  pre- 
carious ?  Mayhew,  says — 

"The  hours  of  labour  in  mechanical  callings  are  usually  twelve, 
two  of  them  devoted  to  meals,  or  seventy-two  hours  (less  by  the 
permitted  intervals)  in  a  week.  In  the  course  of  my  inquiries  for 
the  Chronicle,  I  met  with  slop  cabinet-makers,tailors,  and  milliners, 
who  worked  sixteen  hours  and  more  daily,  their  toil  being  only 
interrupted  by  the  necessity  of  going  out,  if  small  masters,  to 
purchase  materials,  and  offer  the  goods  for  sale ;  or,  if  journey- 
men in  the  slop  trade,  to  obtain  more  work  and  carry  what  was 
completed  to  the  master's  shop.  They  worked  on  Sundays  also ; 
one  tailor  told  me  that  the  coat  he  worked  at  on  the  previous 

Sunday  was  for  the  Rev.  Mr. ,  who  l  little  thought  it,'  and 

these  slop-workers  rarely  give  above  a  few  minutes  to  a  meal. 
Thus  they  toil  forty  hours  beyond  the  hours  usual  in  an  honour- 
able trade,  (112  hours  instead  of  72,)  in  the  course  of  a  week,  or 
between  three  and  four  days  of  the  regular  hours  of  work  of  the 
six  working  days.  In  other  words,  two  such  men  will  in  less 
than  a  week  accomplish  work  which  should  occupy  three  men  a 
full  week ;  or  1000  men  will  execute  labour  fairly  calculated  to 
employ  1500  at  the  least.  A  paucity  of  employment  is  thus 
caused  among  the  general  body,  by  this  system  of  over-labour 
decreasing  the  share  of  work  accruing  to  the  several  operatives, 
and  so  adding  to  surplus  hands. 

"  Of  over-work,  as  regards  excessive  labour,  both  in  the  general 
and  fancy  cabinet  trade,  I  heard  the  following  accounts,  which 
different  operatives  concurred  in  giving ;  while  some  represented 
the  labour  as  of  longer  duration  by  at  least  an  hour,  and  some 
by  two  hours  a  day,  than  I  have  stated. 

13 


186  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

"  The  labour  of  the  men  who  depend  entirely  on  '  the  slaugh- 
ter-houses' for  the  purchase  of  their  articles  is  usually  seven 
days  a  week  the  year  through.  That  is,  seven  days — for  Sunday- 
work  is  all  but  universal — each  of  thirteen  hours,  or  ninety-one 
hours  in  all;  while  the  established  hours  of  labour  in  the 
'  honourable  trade'  are  six  days  of  the  week,  each  of  ten  hours, 
or  sixty  hours  in  all.  Thus  fifty  per  cent,  is  added  to  the  extent 
of  the  production  of  low-priced  cabinet  work,  merely  from  *  over- 
hours  ;'  but  in  some  cases  I  heard  of  fifteen  hours  for  seven  days 
in  the  week,  or  105  hours  in  all. 

"  Concerning  the  hours  of  labour  in  this  trade,  I  had  the  fol- 
lowing minute  particulars  from  a  garret-master  who  was  a  chair- 
maker  : — 

"  '  I  work  from  six  every  morning  to  nine  at  night ;  some  work 
till  ten.  My  breakfast  at  eight  stops  me  for  ten  minutes.  I  can 
breakfast  in  less  time,  but  it's  a  rest.  My  dinner  takes  me  say 
twenty  minutes  at  the  outside ;  and  my  tea  eight  minutes.  All 
the  rest  of  the  time  I'm  slaving  at  my  bench.  How  many 
minutes'  rest  is  that,  sir  ?  Thirty-eight ;  well,  say  three-quarters 
of  an  hour,  and  that  allows  a  few  sucks  at  a  pipe  when  I  rest ; 
but  I  can  smoke  and  work  too.  I  have  only  one  room  to  work 
and  eat  in,  or  I  should  lose  more  time.  Altogether,  I  labour 
fourteen  and  a  quarter  hours  every  day,  and  I  must  work  on  Sun- 
days— at  least  forty  Sundays  in  the  year.  One  may  as  well  work 
as  sit  fretting.  But  on  Sundays  I  only  work  till  it's  dusk,  or  till 
five  or  six  in  summer.  "When  it's  dusk  I  take  a  walk.  I'm  not 
well  .dressed  enough  for  a  Sunday  walk  when  it's  light,  and  I 
can't  wear  my  apron  on  that  day  very  well  to  hide  patches.  But 
there's  eight  hours  that  I  reckon  I  take  up  every  week,  one  with 
another,  in  dancing  about  to  the  slaughterers.  I'm  satisfied  that 
I  work  very  nearly  100  hours  a  week  the  year  through ;  deduct- 
ing the  time  taken  up  by  the  slaughterers,  and  buying  stuff — say 
eight  hours  a  week — it  gives  more  than  ninety  hours  a  week  for 
my  work,  and  there's  hundreds  labour  as  hard  as  I  do,  just  for  a 
crust.' 

"The  East-end  turners  generally,  I  was  informed,  when  in- 
quiring into  the  state  of  that  trade,  labour  at  the  lathe  from  six 


OF   ENGLAND.  187 

o'clock  in  the  morning  till  eleven  and  twelve  at  night,  being 
eighteen  hours'  work  per  day,or  one  hundred  and  eight  hours  per 
week.  They  allow  themselves  two  hours  for  their  meals.  It 
takes  them,  upon  an  average,  two  hours  more  every  day  fetching 
and  carrying  their  work  home.  Some  of  the  East-end  men  work 
on  Sundays,  and  not  a  few  either/  said  my  informant.  '  Some- 
times I  have  worked  hard/  said  one  man,  '  from  six  one  morning 
till  four  the  next,  and  scarcely  had  any  time  to  take  my  meals  in 
the  bargain.  I  have  been  almost  suffocated  with  the  dust  flying 
down  my  throat  after  working  so  many  hours  upon  such  heavy 
work  too,  and  sweating  so  much.  It  makes  a  man  drink  where 
he  would  not/ 

"  This  system  of  over-work  exists  in  the  '  slop'  part  of  almost 
every  business ;  indeed,  it  is  the  principal  means  by  which  the 
cheap  trade  is  maintained.  .  Let  me  cite  from  my  letters  in  the 
Chronicle  some  more  of  my  experience  on  this  subject.  As 
regards  the  London  mantuamakers,  I  said : — *  The  workwomen 
for  good  shops  that  give  fair,  or  tolerably  fair  wages,  and  expect 
good  work,  can  make  six  average-sized  mantles  in  a  week,  work- 
ing from  ten  to  twelve  hours  a  day  ;  but  the  slop-workers  by  toil- 
ing from  thirteen  to  sixteen  hours  a  day,  will  make  nine  such  sized 
mantles  in  a  week.  In  a  season  of  twelve  weeks,  1000  workers 
for  the  slop-houses  and  warehouses  would  at  this  rate  make 
108,000  mantles,  or  36,000  more  than  workers  for  the  fair  trade. 
Or,  to  put  it  in  another  light,  these  slop-women,  by  being  com- 
pelled, in  order  to  live,  to  work  such  over-hours  as  inflict  lasting 
injury  on  the  health,  supplant,  by  their  over-work  and  over- 
hours,  the  labour  of  500  hands,  working  the  regular  hours." 

Mr.  Mayhew  states  it  as  a  plain,  unerring  law,  that 
"over-work  makes  under-pay,  and  under-pay  makes 
over-work.1'  True;  but  under-pay  in  the  first  place 
gave  rise  to  prolonged  hours  of  toil ;  and  in  spite  of  all 
laws  that  may  be  enacted,  as  long  as  a  miserable  pit- 
tance is  paid  to  labourers,  and  that,  too,  devoured  by 


188  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

taxes,  supporting  an  aristocracy  in  luxury,  so  long  will 
the  workman  be  compelled  to  slave  for  a  subsistence. 

The  "strapping"  system,  which  demands  an  undue 
quantity  of  work  from  a  journeyman  in  the  course  of  a 
day,  is  extensively  maintained  in  London.  Mr.  May- 
hew  met  with  a  miserable  victim  of  this  system  of 
slavery,  who  appeared  almost  exhausted  with  excessive 
toil.  The  poor  fellow  said — 

"  *  I  work  in  what  is  called  a  strapping-shop,  and  have  worked 
at  nothing  else  for  these  many  years  past  in  London.  I  call 
"  strapping"  doing  as  much  work  as  a  human  being  or  a  horse 
possibly  can  in  a  day,  and  that  without  any  hanging  upon  the 
collar,  but  with  the  foreman's  eyes  constantly  fixed  upon  you, 
from  six  o'clock  in  the  morning  to  six  o'clock  at  night.  The  shop 
in  which  I  work  is  for  all  the  world  like  a  prison ;  the  silent  sys^ 
tern  is  as  strictly  carried  out  there  as  in  a  model  jail.  If  a  man 
was  to  ask  any  common  question  of  his  neighbour,  except  it  was 
connected  with  his  trade,  he  would  be  discharged  there  and  then. 
If  a  journeyman  makes  the  least  mistake  he  is  packed  off  just  the 
same.  A  man  working  at  such  places  is  almost  always  in  fear  ; 
for  the  most  trifling  things  he's  thrown  out  of  work  in  an  instant. 
And  then  the  quantity  of  work  that  one  is  forced  to  get  through 
is  positively  awful ;  if  he  can't  do  a  plenty  of  it  he  don't  stop 
long  where  I  am.  No  one  would  think  it  was  possible  to  get  so 
much  out  of  blood  and  bones.  No  slaves  work  like  we  do.  At 
some  of  the  strapping  shops  the  foreman  keeps  continually  walk- 
ing about  with  his  eyes  on  all  the  men  at  once.  At  others  the 
foreman  is  perched  high  up,  so  that  he  can  have  the  whole  of  the 
men  under  his  eye  together.  I  suppose  since  I  knew  the  trade 
that  a  man  does  four  times  tlie  work  that  he  did  formerly.  I  know 
a  man  thaFs  done  four  pairs  of  sasnelTTn  a  day,  and  one  is  con- 
sidered to  be  a  good  day's  labour.  What's  worse  than  all,  the 
men  are  every  one  striving  one  against  the  other.  *  Each  is  try- 
ing to  get  through  the  work  quicker  than  his  neighbours.  Four 

\ 


OF   ENGLAND,  189 

or  five  men  are  set  the  same  job,  so  that  they  may  be  all  pitted 
against  one  another,  and  then  away  they  go,  every  one  striving 
his  hardest  for  fear  that  the  others  should  get  finished  first. 
They  are  all  tearing  along,  from  the  first  thing  in  the  morning  to 
the  last  at  night,  as  hard  as  they  can  go,  and  when  the  time 
comes  to  knock  off  they  are  ready  to  drop.  I  was  hours  after  I 
got  home  last  night  before  I  could  get  a  wink  of  sleep ;  the  soles 
of  my  feet  were  on  fire,  and  my  arms  ached  to  that  degree  that  I 
could  hardly  lift  my  hand  to  my  head.  Often,  too,  when  we  get 
up  of  a  morning,  we  are  more  tired  than  when  we  went  to  bed, 
for  we  can't  sleep  many  a  night ;  but  we  mustn't  let  our  em- 
ployers know  it,  or  else  they'd  be  certain  we  couldn't  do  enough 
for  them,  and  we'd  get  the  sack.  So,  tired  as  we  may  be,  we  are 
obliged  to  look  lively,  somehow  or  other,  at  the  shop  of  a  morn- 
ing. If  we're  not  beside  our  bench  the  very  moment  the  belPs 
done  ringing,  our  time's  docked — they  won't  give  us  a  single 
minute  out  of  the  hour.  If  I  was  working  for  a  fair  master,  I 
should  do  nearly  one-third,  and  sometimes  a  half,  less  work  than 
I  am  now  forced  to  get  through ;  and,  even  to  manage  that  much, 
I  shouldn't  be  idle  a  second  of  my  time.  It's  quite  a  mystery  to 
me  how  they  do  contrive  to  get  so  much  work  out  of  the  men. 
But  they  are  very  clever  people.  They  know  how  to  have  the 
most  out  of  a  man,  better  than  any  one  in  the  world.  They  are 
all  picked  men  in  the  shop — regular  "  strappers,"  and  no  mis- 
take. The  most  of  them  are  five  foot  ten,  and  fine  broad-shoul- 
dered, strong-backed  fellows  too — if  they  weren't  they  wouldn't 
have  them.  Bless  you,  they  make  no  words  with  the  men,  they 
sack  them  if  they're  not  strong  enough  to  do  all  they  want ;  and 
they  can  pretty  soon  tell,  the  very  first  shaving  a  man  strikes  in 
the  shop,  what  a  chap  is  made  of.  Some  men  are  done  up  at 
such  work — quite  old  men  and  gray,  with  spectacles  on,  by  the 
time  they  are  forty.  I  have  seen  fine  strong  men,  of  thirty-six, 
come  in  there,  and  be  bent  double  in  two  or  three  years.  They 
are  most  all  countrymen  at  the  strapping  shops.  If  they  see  a 
great  strapping  fellow,  who  they  think  has  got  some  stuff  about 
him  that  will  come  out,  they  will  give  him  a  job  directly.  We 
are  used  for  all  the  world  like  cab  or  omnibus-horses.  Directly 
I* 


190  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

they've  had  all  the  work  out  of  us,  we  are  turned  off,  and  I  am 
sure,  after  my  day's  work  is  over,  my  feelings  must  be  very  much 
the  same  as  one  of  the  London  cab-horses.  As  for  Sunday,  it  is 
literally  a  day  of  rest  with  us,  for  the  greater  part  of  us  lay  a-bed 
all  day,  and  even  that  will  hardly  take  the  aches  and  pains  out 
of  our  bones  and  muscles.  When  I'm  done  and  flung  by,  of 
course  I  must  starve.' " 

It  may  be  said  that,  exhausting  as  this  labour  certainly 
is,  it  is  not  slavery ;  for  the  workman  has  a  will  of  his 
own,  and  need  not  work  if  he  does  not  choose  to  do  it. 
Besides,  hfe  is  not  held  by  law ;  he  may  leave  the  shop ; 
he  may  seek  some  other  land.  These  circumstances 
make  his  case  very  different  from  the  negro  slave  of 
America.  True,  but  the  difference  is  in  favour  of  the 
negro  slave.  The  London  workman  has  only  the  alter- 
native— such  labour  as  has  been  described,  the  work- 
house, or  starvation.  The  negro  slave  seldom  has  such 
grinding  toil,  is  provided  for  whether  he  performs  it  or 
not,  and  can  look  forward  to  an  old  age  of  comfort  and 
repose.  The  London  workman  may  leave  his  shop,  but 
he  will  be  either  consigned  to  the  prison  of  a  workhouse 
or  starved.  He  might  leave  the  country,  if  he  could 
obtain  the  necessary  funds. 

Family  work,  or  the  conjoint  labour  of  a  workman's 
wife  and  children,  is  one  of  the  results  of  the  wretchedly 
rewarded  slavery  in  the  various  trades.  Mr.  Mayhew 
gives  the  following  statement  of  a  "  fancy  cabinet" 
worker  upon  this  subject : — 

"  The  most  on  us  has  got  large  families ;  we  put  the  children 


OF   ENGLAND.  191 

to  work  as  soon  as  we  can.  My  little  girl  began  about  six,  but 
about  eight  or  nine  is  the  usual  age.  *  Oh,  poor  little  things/  said 
the  wife,  '  they  are  obliged  to  begin  the  very  minute  they  can  use 
their  fingers  at  all.'  The  most  of  the  cabinet-makers  of  the  East 
end  have  from  five  to  six  in  family,  and  they  are  generally  all  at 
work  for  them.  The  small  masters  mostly  marry  when  they  are 
turned  of  twenty.  Youjsee  our  trade's  coming  to  such  a  pass, 
that  unless  a  man  has  children  to  help  him  he  can't  live  at  all. 
I've '"TrorEeTmore  than  a  month  together,  and  the  longest  night's 
rest  I've  had  has  been  an  hour  and  a  quarter;  ay,  and  I've  been, 
up  three  nights  a  week  besides.  I've  had  my  children  lying  ill, 
and  been  obliged  to  wait  on  them  into  the  bargain.  You  see  wo 
couldn't  live  if  it  wasn't  for  the  labour  of  our  children,  though  it 
makes  'em — poor  little  things! — old  people  long  afore  they  are 
growed  up.' 

"  '  Why,  I  stood  at  this  bench,'  said  the  wife,  '  with  my  child, 
only  ten  years  of  age,  from  four  o'clock  on  Friday  morning  till 
ten  minutes  past  seven  in  the  evening,  without  a  bit  to  eat  or 
drink.  I  never  sat  down  a  minute  from  the  time  I  began  till  I 
finished  my  work,  and  then  I  went  out  to  sell  what  I  had  done. 
I  walked  all  the  way  from  here  [Shoreditch]  down  to  the  Lowther 
Arcade  to  get  rid  of  the  articles.'  Here  she  burst  out  into  a 
violent  flood  of  tears,  saying,  *  Oh,  sir,  it  is  hard  to  be  obliged  to 
labour  from  morning  till  night  as  we  do,  all  of  us,  little  ones  and 
all,  and  yet  not  be  able  to  live  by  it  either.' 

" ' And  you  see  the  worst  of  it  is,  this  here  children's  labour  is  of 
such  value  now  in  our  trade,  that  there's  more  brought  into  tho 
business  every  year,  so  that  it's  really  for  all  the  world  like  breed- 
ing slaves.  Without  my  children  I  don't  know  how  we  should  be 
able  to  get  along.'  *  There's  that  little  thing,'  said  the  man,  point- 
ing to  the  girl  ten  years  of  age,  before  alluded  to,  as  she  sat  at 
the  edge  of  the  bed,  '  why  she  works  regularly  every  day  from 
six  in  the  morning  till  ten  at  night.  She  never  goes  to  school ; 
we  can't  spare  her.  There's  schools  enough  about  here  for  a 
penny  a  week,  but  we  could  not  afford  to  keep  her  without  work- 
ing. If  I'd  ten  more  children  I  should  be  obliged  to  employ  them 
all  the  same  way,  and  there's  hundreds  and  thousands  of  children 


192  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

now  slaving  at  this  business.    There's  the  M 's ;  they  have  a 

family  of  eight,  and  the  youngest  to  the  oldest  of  all  works  at  the 
bench;  and  the  oldest  a'n't  fourteen.  I'm  sure,  of  the  two  thou- 
sand five  hundred  small  masters  in  the  cabinet  line,  you  may 
safely  say  that  two  thousand  of  them,  at  the  very  least,  have  from 
five  to  six  in  family,  and  that's  upward  of  twelve  thousand  chil- 
dren that's  been  put  to  the  trade  since  prices  have  come  down. 
Twenty  years  ago  I  don't  think  there  was  a  child  at  work  in  our 
business ;  and  I  am  sure  there  is  not  a  small  master  now  whose 
whole  family  doesn't  assist  him.  But  what  I  want  to  know  is, 
what's  to  become  of  the  twelve  thousand  children  when  they're 
growed  up  and  come  regular  into  the  trade?  Here  are  all  my 
ones  growing  up  without  being  taught  any  thing  but  a  business 
that  I  know  they  must  starve  at/ 

"  In  answer  to  my  inquiry  as  to  what  dependence  he  had  in 
case  of  sickness,  '  Oh,  bless  you/  he  said,  '  there's  nothing  but  the 
parish  for  us.  I  did  belong  to  a  benefit  society  about  four  years 
ago,  but  I  couldn't  keep  up  my  payments  any  longer.  I  was  in 
the  society  above  five-and-twenty  years,  and  then  was  obliged  to 
leave  it  after  all.  I  don't  jmow  of  onq  a^f  helonga  to  anj  friendly 
society,  and  I  don't  think  there  is  a  man  as  can  afford  it  in  our 
trade  now.  They  must  all  go  to  the  workhouse  when  they're  sick 
or  old/  " 

The  "  trading  operatives/'  or  those  labourers  who  em- 
ploy subordinate  and  cheaper  work-people,  are  much 
decried  in  England;  but  they,  also,  are  the  creations 
of  the  general  system.  A  workman  frequently  ascer- 
tains that  he  can  make  more  money  with  less  labour,  by 
employing  women  or  children  at  home,  than  if  he  did 
all  of  his  own  work ;  and  very  often  men  are  driven  to 
this  resource  to  save  themselves  from  being  worked  to 
death.  The  condition  of  those  persons  who  work  for 


OF   ENGLAND.  193 

the  "trading  operatives,"  or  "middle-men,"  is  as  mise- 
rable as  imagination  may  conceive. 

In  Charles  Kingsley's  popular  novel,  "Alton  Locke," 
we  find  a  vivid  and  truthful  picture  of  the  London  tailor's 
workshop,  and  the  slavery  of  the  workmen,  which  may 
be  quoted  here  in  illustration : — 

"  I  stumbled  after  Mr.  Jones  up  a  dark,  narrow  iron  staircase, 
till  we  emerged  through  a  trap-door  into  a  garret  at  the  top  of 
the  house.  I  recoiled  with  disgust  at  the  scene  before  me ;  and 
here  I  was  to  work — perhaps  through  life !  A  low  lean-to  room, 
stifling  me  with  the  combined  odours  of  human  breath  and  per 
spiration,  stale  beer,  the  sweet  sickly  smell  of  gin,  and  the  sour 
and  hardly  less  disgusting  one  of  new  cloth.  On  the  floor,  thick 
with  dust  and  dirt,  scraps  of  stuff  and  ends  of  thread,  sat  some 
dozen  haggard,  untidy,  shoeless  men,  with  a  mingled  look  of  care 
and  recklessness  that  made  me  shudder.  The  windows  were 
tight  closed  to  keep  out  the  cold  winter  air ;  and  the  condensed 
breath  ran  in  streams  down  the  panes,  checkering  the  dreary  out- 
look of  chimney-tops  and  smoke.  The  conductor  handed  me  over 
to  one  of  the  men. 

"  'Here  Crossthwaite,  take  this  younker  and  make  a  tailor  of 
him.  Keep  him  next  you,  and  prick  him  up  with  your  needle  if 
he  shirks/ 

"  He  disappeared  down  the  trap-door,  and  mechanically,  as  if 
in  a  dream,  I  sat  down  by  the  man  and  listened  to  his  instruc- 
tions, kindly  enough  bestowed.  But  I  did  not  remain  in  peace 
two  minutes.  A  burst  of  chatter  rose  as  the  foreman  vanished, 
and  a  tall,  bloated,  sharp-nosed  young  man  next  me  bawled  in 
my  ear — 

"  '  I  say,  young  'un,  fork  out  the  tin  and  pay  your  footing  at 
Conscrumption  Hospital  I; 

"  'What  do  you  mean?' 

" '  A'n't  he  just  green  ?— -Down  with  the  stumpy — a  tizzy  for  a 
pot  of  half-and-half/ 

" '  I  never  drink  beer/ 


194  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

" '  Then  never  do,'  whispered  the  man  at  my  side ;  'as  sure  as 
hell's  hell,  it's  your  only  chance/ 

"  There  was  a  fierce,  deep  earnestness  in  the  tone,  which  made 
me  look  up  at  the  speaker,  but  the  other  instantly  chimed  in. 

"  '  Oh,  yer  don't,  don't  yer,  my  young  Father  Mathy !  then 
yer'll  soon  learn  it  here  if  yer  want  to  keep  your  victuals  down/ 

"  *  And  I  have  promised  to  take  my  wages  home  to  my  mother/ 

" '  Oh  criminy !  hark  to  that,  my  coves  1  here's  a  chap  as  is 
going  to  take  the  blunt  home  to  his  mammy/ 

"  *  T'a'nt  much  of  it  the  old  un'll  see,'  said  another.  '  Yen  yer 
pockets  it  at  the  Cock  and  Bottle,  my  kiddy,  yer  won't  find  much 
of  it  left  o'  Sunday  mornings/ 

"  *  Don't  his  mother  know  he's  out  ?'  asked  another ;  *  and  won't 
she  know  it — 

Ven  he's  sitting  in  his  glory 
Half-price  at  the  Vic-tory. 

Oh  no,  ve  never  mentions  her — her  name  is  never  heard.  Cer- 
tainly not,  by  no  means.  Why  should  it?' 

"  *  Well,  if  yer  won't  stand  a  pot,'  quoth  the  tall  man,  'I  will, 
that's  all,  and  blow  temperance.  *  A  short  life  and  a  merry  one,' 
says  the  tailor — 

The  ministers  talk  a  great  deal  about  port, 

And  they  makes  Cape  wine  very  dear, 
But  blow  their  hi's  if  ever  they  tries 

To  deprive  a  poor  cove  of  his  beer. 

Here,  Sam,  run  to  the  Cock  and  Bottle  for  a  pot  of  half-and-half 
to  my  score/ 

"A  thin,  pale  lad  jumped  up  and  vanished,  while  my  tormentor 
turned  to  me : 

"I  say,  young  'un,  do  you  know  why  we're  nearer  heaven  here 
than  our  neighbours?' 

"  *  I  shouldn't  have  thought  so/  answered  I  with  a  naivete  which 
raised  a  laugh,  and  dashed  the  tall  man  for  a  moment. 

"  *  Yer  don't  ?  then  I'll  tell  yer.  Acause  we're  atop  of  the 
house  in  the  first  place,  and  next  place  yer'll  die  here  six  months 


OF   ENGLAND.  195 

sooner  nor  if  yer  worked  in  the  room  below.  A* n't  that  logic  and 
science,  Orator?7  appealing  to  Crossthwaite. 

"'Why?'  asked  I. 

"  '  Acause  you  get  all  the  other  floors'  stinks  up  here,  as  well 
as  your  own.  Concentrated  essence  of  man's  flesh,  is  this  here 
as  you're  a-breathing.  Cellar  work-room  we  calls  Rheumatic 
Ward,  because  of  the  damp.  Ground-floor's,  Fever  Ward — them 
as  don't  get  typhus  gets  dysentery,  and  them  as  don't  get  dysen- 
tery gets  typhus — your  nose  'd  tell  yer  why  if  you  opened  the 
back  windy.  First  floor's  Ashmy  Ward — don't  you  hear  'urn 
now  through  the  cracks  in  the  boards,  a-puffing  away  like  a  nest 
of  young  locomotives?  And  this  here  more  august  and  upper- 
crust  cockloft  is  the  Conscrumptive  Hospital.  First  you  begins 
to  cough,  then  you  proceed  to  expectorate — spittoons,  as  you  see, 
perwided  free  gracious  for  nothing — fined  a  kivarten  if  you 
spits  on  the  floor — 

Then  your  cheeks  they  grow  red,  and  your  nose  it  grows  thin, 
And  your  bones  they  sticks  out,  till  they  comes  through  your  skin : 

and  then,  when  you've  sufficiently  covered  the  poor  dear  shivering 
bare  backs  of  the  hairystocracy, 

Die,  die,  die, 

Away  you  fly, 

Your  soul  is  in  the  sky ! 

as  the  hinspired  Shakspeare  wittily  remarks/ 

"And  the  ribald  lay  down  on  his  back,  stretched  himself  out, 
and  pretended  to  die  in  a  fit  of  coughing,  which  last  was  alas ! 
no  counterfeit,  while  poor  I,  shocked  and  bewildered,  let  my  tears 
fall  fast  upon  my  knees. 

"  *  Fine  him  a  pot !'  roared  one,  *  for  talking  about  kicking  the 
bucket.  He's  a  nice  young  man  to  keep  a  cove's  spirits  up,  and 
talk  about  "  a  short  life  and  a  merry  one."  Here  comes  the  heavy. 
Hand  it  here  to  take  the  taste  of  that  fellow's  talk  out  of  my 
mouth.' 

"'Well,  my  young  'un/  recommenced  my  tormentor,  'and 
how  do  you  like  your  company?' 


196  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

" '  Leave  the  boy  alone/  growled  Crossthwaite :  '  don't  you  see 
he's  crying?' 

"  *  Is  that  any  thing  good  to  eat?  Give  me  some  on  it,  if  it  is — 
it  '11  save  me  washing  my  face.'  And  he  took  hold  of  my  hair 
and  pulled  my  head  back. 

" '  I'll  tell  you  what,  Jemmy  Downes,'  said  Crossthwaite,  in  a 
voice  that  made  him  draw  back,  *  if  you  don't  drop  that,  I'll  give 
you  such  a  taste  of  my  tongue  as  shall  turn  you  blue.' 

"'  You'd  better  try  it  on,  then.  Do— only  just  now — if  you 
please.' 

"  'Be  quiet,  you  fool!'  said  another.  'You're  a  pretty  fellow 
to  chaff  the  orator.  He'll  slang  you  up  the  chimney  afore  you 
can  get  your  shoes  on.' 

"  *  Fine  him  a  kivarten  for  quarrelling,'  cried  another ;  and  the 
bully  subsided  into  a  minute's  silence,  after  a  sotto  voce — 'Blow 
temperance,  and  blow  all  Chartists,  say  II'  and  then  delivered 
himself  of  his  feelings  in  a  doggrel  song : 

Some  folks  leads  coves  a  dance, 

With  their  pledge  of  temperance, 
And  their  plans  for  donkey  sociation ; 

And  their  pocket-fulls  they  crams 

By  their  patriotic  flams, 
And  then  swears  His  for  the  good  of  the  nation. 

But  I  don't  care  two  inions 

For  political  opinions, 
While  I  can  stand  my  heavy  and  my  quartern ; 

For  to  drown  dull  care  within, 

In  baccy,  beer,  and  gin, 
Is  the  prime  of  a  working-tailor's  fortin ! 

"  '  There's  common  sense  for  you  now;  hand  the  pot  here/ 
"  I  recollect  nothing  more  of  that  day,  except  that  I  bent  my- 
self to  my  work  with  assiduity  enough  to  earn  praises  from  Cross- 
thwaite. It  was  to  be  done,  and  I  did  it.  The  only  virtue  I  ever 
possessed  (if  virtue  it  be)  is  the  power  of  absorbing  my  whole 
heart  and  mind  in  the  pursuit  of  the  moment,  however  dull  or 
trivial,  if  there  be  good  reason  why  it  should  be  pursued  at  all. 


OP  ENGLAND.  197 

"  I  owe,  too,  an  apology  to  my  readers  for  introducing  all  this 
ribaldry.  God  knows  it  is  as  little  to  my  taste  as  it  can  be  to  theirs, 
but  the  thing  exists ;  and  those  who  live,  if  not  by,  yet  still  be- 
side such  a  state  of  things,  ought  to  know  what  the  men  are  like, 
to  whose  labour,  ay,  life-blood,  they  owe  their  luxuries.  They 
are  *  their  brothers'  keepers/  let  them  deny  it  as  they  will." 

As  a  relief  from  misery,  the  wretched  workmen  gene- 
rally resort  to  intoxicating  liquors,  which,  however, 
ultimately  render  them  a  hundredfold  more  miserable. 
In  "Alton  Locke,"  this  is  illustrated  with  an  almost 
fearful  power,  in  the  life  and  death  of  the  tailor  Downes. 
After  saving  the  wretched  man  from  throwing  himself 
into  the  river,  Alton  Locke  accompanies  him  to  a  dis- 
gusting dwelling,  in  Bermondsey.  The  story  con- 
tinues : — 

"  He  stopped  at  the  end  of  a  miserable  blind  alley,  where  a 
dirty  gas-lamp  just  served  to  make  darkness  visible,  and  show  the 
patched  windows  and  rickety  doorways  of  the  crazy  houses, 
whose  upper  stories  were  lost  in  a  brooding  cloud  of  fog ;  and  the 
pools  of  stagnant  water  at  our  feet :  and  the  huge  heap  of  cinders 
which  filled  up  the  waste  end  of  the  alley — a  dreary  black,  form- 
less mound,  on  which  two  or  three  spectral  dogs  prowled  up  and 
down  after  the  offal,  appearing  and  vanishing  like  dark  imps  in 
and  out  of  the  black  misty  chaos  beyond. 

"  The  neighbourhood  was  undergoing,  as  it  seemed,  'improve- 
ments/ of  that  peculiar  metropolitan  species  which  consists  in 
pulling  down  the  dwellings  of  the  poor,  and  building  up  rich 
men's  houses  instead ;  and  great  buildings,  within  high  tempo- 
rary palings,  had  already  eaten  up  half  the  little  houses ;  as  the 
great  fish,  and  the  great  estates,  and  the  great  shopkeepers,  eat 
up  the  little  ones  of  their  species — by  the  law  of  competition, 
lately  discovered  to  be  the  true  creator  and  preserver  of  the  uni- 
verse. There  they  loomed  up,  the  tall  bullies,  against  the  dreary 


198  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

sky,  looking  down  with  their  grim,  proud,  stony  visages,  on  the 
misery  which  they  were  driving  out  of  one  corner,  only  to  accu- 
mulate and  intensify  it  in  another. 

"  The  house  at  which  we  stopped  was  the  last  in  the  row ;  all 
its  companions  had  been  pulled  down ;  and  there  it  stood,  lean- 
ing out  with  one  naked  ugly  side  into  the  gap,  and  stretching  out 
long  props,  like  feeble  arms  and  crutches,  to  resist  the  work  of 
demolition. 

"A  group  of  slatternly  people  were  in  the  entry,  talking  loudly, 
and  as  Downes  pushed  by  them,  a  woman  seized  him  by  the  arm.  *' 

" '  Oh !  you  unnatural  villain  ! — To  go  away  after  your  drink, 
and  leave  all  them  poor  dead  corpses  locked  up,  without  even 
letting  a  body  go  in  to  stretch  them  out !' 

"'And  breeding  the  fever,  too,  to  poison  the  whole  house!' 
growled  one. 

"  The  relieving-officer's  been  here,  my  cove/  said  another;  'and 
he's  gone  for  a  peeler  and  a  search-warrant  to  break  open  the 
door,  I  can  tell  you  !' 

"  But  Downes  pushed  past  unheeding,  unlocked  a  door  at  the 
end  of  the  passage,  thrust  me  in,  locked  it  again,  and  then  rushed 
across  the  room  in  chase  of  two  or  three  rats,  who  vanished  into 
cracks  and  holes. 

"  And  what  a  room  !  A  low  lean-to  with  wooden  walls,  without 
a  single  article  of  furniture  ;  and  through  the  broad  chinks  of  the 
floor  shone  up  as  it  were  ugly  glaring  eyes,  staring  at  us.  They 
were  the  reflections  of  the  rushlight  in  the  sewer  below.  The 
stench  was  frightful — the  air  heavy  with  pestilence.  The  first 
breath  I  drew  made  my  heart  sink,  and  my  stomach  turn.  But 
I  forgot  every  thing  in  the  object  which  lay  before  me,  as  Downes 
tore  a  half-finished  coat  off  three  corpses  laid  side  by  side  on  the 
bare  floor. 

"  There  was  his  little  Irish  wife ; — dead — and  naked — the 
wasted  white  limbs  gleamed  in  the  lurid  light ;  the  unclosed  eyes 
stared,  as  if  reproachfully,  at  the  husband  whose  drunkenness 
had  brought  her  there  to  kill  her  with  the  pestilence ;  and  on 
each  side  of  her  a  little,  shrivelled,  impish,  child-corpse — the 
•wretched  man  had  laid  their  arms  round  the  dead  mother's  neck 
— and  there  they  slept,  their  hungering  and  wailing  over  at  last 


OF  ENGLAND.  199 

for  ever :  the  rats  had  been  busy  already  with  them — but  what 
matter  to  them  now  ? 

"'Look!'  he  cried;  'I  watched 'em  dying!  Day  after  day  I 
saw  the  devils  come  up  through  the  cracks,  like  little  maggots 
and  beetles,  and  all  manner  of  ugly  things,  creeping  down  their 
throats ;  and  I  asked  'em,  and  they  said  they  were  the  fever 
devils/ 

"  It  was  too  true ;  the  poisonous  exhalations  had  killed  them. 
The  wretched  man's  delirium  tremens  had  given  that  horrible 
substantiality  to  the  poisonous  fever  gases. 

"  Suddenly  Downes  turned  on  me  almost  menacingly.  '  Money  1 
money !  I  want  some  gin !' 

"  I  was  thoroughly  terrified — and  there  was  no  shame  in  feel- 
ing fear,  locked  up  with  a  madman  far  my  superior  in  size  and 
strength,  in  so  ghastly  a  place.  But  the  shame,  and  the  folly 
too,  would  have  been  in  giving  way  to  my  fear ;  and  with  a  bold- 
ness half  assumed,  half  the  real  fruit  of  excitement  and  indigna- 
tion at  the  horrors  I  beheld,  I  answered — 

"  '  If  I  had  money,  I  would  give  you  none.  What  do  you  want 
with  gin  ?  Look  at  the  fruits  of  your  accursed  tippling.  If  you 
had  taken  my  advice,  my  poor  fellow,'  I  went  on,  gaining  courage 
as  I  spoke,  '  and  become  a  water-drinker,  like  me' 

"  *  Curse  you  and  your  water-drinking !  If  you  had  had  no 
water  to  drink  or  wash  with  for  two  years  but  that — that,'  point- 
ing to  the  foul  ditch  below — '  If  you  had  emptied  the  slops  in 
there  with  one  hand,  and  filled  your  kettle  with  the  other' 

" '  Do  you  actually  mean  that  that  sewer  is  your  only  drinking 
water?' 

"  '  Where  else  can  we  get  any  ?  Everybody  drinks  it ;  and  you 
shall  too — you  shall !'  he  cried,  with  a  fearful  oath,  '  and  then  see 
if  you  don't  run  off  to  the  gin-shop,  to  take  the  taste  of  it  out  of 
your  mouth.  Drink!  and  who  can  help  drinking,  with  his 
stomach  turned  with  such  hell-broth  as  that — or  such  a  hell's 
blast  as  this  air  is  here,  ready  to  vomit  from  morning  till  night 
with  the  smells  ?  I'll  show  you.  You  shall  drink  a  bucket-full 
of  it,  as  sure  as  you  live,  you  shall.' 

"  And  he  ran  out  of  the  back  door,  upon  a  little  balcony,  which 
hung  over  the  ditch. 


200  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

"  I  tried  the  door,  but  the  key  was  gone,  and  the  handle  too. 
I  beat  furiously  on  it,  and  called  for  help:  Two  gruff  authorita- 
tive voices  were  heard  in  the  passage. 

"  *  Let  us  in ;  I'm  the  policeman !' 

" '  Let  me  out,  or  mischief  will  happen !' 

"  The  policeman  made  a  vigorous  thrust  at  the  crazy  door;  and 
just  as  it  burst  open,  and  the  light  of  his  lantern  streamed  into 
the  horrible  den,  a  heavy  splash  was  heard  outside. 

" «  He  has  fallen  into  the  ditch  I' 

"  '  He'll  be  drowned,  then,  as  sure  as  he's  a  born  man/  shouted 
one  of  the  crowd  behind. 

"  We  rushed  out  on  the  balcony.  The  light  of  the  policeman's 
lantern  glared  over  the  ghastly  scene — along  the  double  row  of 
miserable  house-backs,  which  lined  the  sides  of  the  open  tidal 
ditch — over  strange  rambling  jetties,  and  balconies,  and  sleeping 
sheds,  which  hung  on  rotting  piles  over  the  black  waters,  with 
phosphorescent  scraps  of  rotten  fish  gleaming  and  twinkling  out 
of  the  dark  hollows,  like  devilish  gravelights — over  bubbles  of 
poisonous  gas,  and  bloated  carcases  of  dogs,  and  lumps  of  offal, 
floating  on  the  stagnant  olive-green  hell-broth — over  the  slow  sul- 
len rows  of  oily  ripple  which  were  dying  away  into  the  darkness 
far  beyond,  sending  up,  as  they  stirred,  hot  breaths  of  miasma — 
the  only  sign  that  a  spark  of  humanity,  after  years  of  foul  life, 
had  quenched  itself  at  last  in  that  foul  death.  I  almost  fancied 
tJiat  I  could  see  the  haggard  face  staring  up  at  me  through  the 
slimy  water ;  but  no — it  was  as  opaque  as  stone." 

Downes  had  been  a  "sweater,"  and  before  his  death 
was  a  "sweater's  slave." 

When  the  comparatively  respectable  workshop  in 
which  Alton  Locke  laboured  was  broken  up,  and  the 
workmen  were  told  by  the  heartless  employer  that  he 
intended  to  give  out  work,  for  those  who  could  labour 
at  home,  these  toil-worn  men  held  a  meeting,  at  which 


OP   ENGLAND.  201 

a  man  named  John  Crossthwaite,  thus  spoke  for  his 
oppressed  and  degraded  class  : — 

"  We  were  all  bound  to  expect  this.  Every  working  tailor  must 
come  to  this  at  last,  on  the  present  system ;  and  we  are  only 
lucky  in  having  been  spared  so  long.  You  all  know  where  this 
will  end — in  the  same  misery  as  fifteen  thousand  out  of  twenty 
thousand  of  our  class  are  enduring  now.  We  shall  become  the 
slaves,  often  the  bodily  prisoners,  of  Jews,  middlemen,  and  sweat- 
ers, who  draw  their  livelihood  out  of  our  starvation.  We  shall 
have  to  face,  as  the  rest  have,  ever-decreasing  prices  of  labour, 
ever-increasing  profits  made  out  of  that  labour  by  the  contractors 
who  will  employ  us — arbitrary  fines,  inflicted  at  the  caprice  of 
hirelings — the  competition  of  women,  and  children,  and  starving 
Irish — our  hours  of  work  will  increase  one-third,  our  actual  pay 
decrease  to  less  than  one-half;  and  in  all  this  we  shall  have  no 
hope,  no  chance  of  improvement  in  wages,  but  ever  more  penury, 
slavery,  misery,  as  we  are  pressed  on  by  those  who  are  sucked  by 
fifties — almost  by  hundreds — yearly,  out  of  the  honourable  trado 
in  which  we  were  brought  up,  into  the  infernal  system  of  con- 
tract work,  which  is  devouring  our  trade  and  many  others,  body 
and  soul.  Our  wives  will  be  forced  to  sit  up  night  and  day  to 
help  us — our  children  must  labour  from  the  cradle,  without  chance 
of  going  to  school,  hardly  of  breathing  the  fresh  air  of  heaven — - 
our  boys  as  they  grow  up  must  turn  beggars  or  paupers — our 
daughters,  as  thousands  do,  must  eke  our  their  miserable  earn- 
ings by  prostitution.  And,  after  all,  a  whole  family  will  not  gain 
what  one  of  us  had  been  doing,  as  yet,  single-handed.  You  know 
there  will  be  no  hope  for  us.  There  is  no  use  appealing  to  go- 
vernment or  Parliament.  I  don't  want  to  talk  politics  here,  I 
shall  keep  them  for  another  place.  But  you  can  recollect  as  well 
as  I  can,  when  a  deputation  of  us  went  up  to  a  member  of  Parlia- 
ment— one  that  was  reputed  a  philosopher,  and  a  political  econo- 
mist, and  a  liberal — and  set  before  him  the  ever-increasing  penury 
and  misery  of  our  trade  and  of  those  connected  with  it ;  you  re- 
collect his  answer — that,  however  glad  he  would  be  to  help  us,  it 
was  impossible — he  could  not  alter  the  laws  of  nature — that 


202  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

wages  were  regulated  by  the  amount  of  competition  among  the 
men  themselves,  and  that  it  was  no  business  of  government,  or 
any  one  else,  to  interfere  in  contracts  between  the  employer  and 
employed,  that  those  things  regulated  themselves  by  the  laws  of 
political  economy,  which  it  was  madness  and  suicide  to  oppose. 
He  may  have  been  a  wise  man.  I  only  know  that  he  was  a  rich 
one.  Every  one  speaks  well  of  the  bridge  which  carries  him  over. 
Every  one  fancies  the  laws  which  fill  his  pockets  to  be  God's  laws. 
But  I  say  this :  If  neither  government  nor  members  of  Parliament 
can  help  us,  we  must  help  ourselves.  Help  yourselves,  and  Hea- 
ven will  help  you.  Combination  among  ourselves  is  the  only 
chance.  One  thing  we  can  do — sit  still/ 
"  '  And  starve  I'  said  some  one." 

Crossthwaite  is  represented  as  having  preferred  to 
endure  want  rather  than  work  under  the  sweating  sys- 
.tem.  But  there  are  few  men  who  possess  such  spirit 
and  determination.  Men  with  families  are  compelled, 
by  considering  those  who  are  dependent  upon  them,  to 
work  for  whatever  prices  the  masters  choose  to  pay. 
They  are  free  labourers — if  they  do  not  choose  to  work 
— they  are  perfectly  free — to  starve  ! 

The  government  took  the  initiative  in  the  sweating  j 
system.     It  set  the  example  by  giving  the  army  and 
navy  clothes   to  contractors,   and   taking  the   lowest 
tenders.    The  police  clothes,  the  postmen's  clothes,  the 
convict's  clothes,  are  all  contracted  for  by  sweaters  and 
sub-sweaters,   till  government  work  is  the  very  last, 
lowest  resource  to  which  a  poor,  starved-out  wretch 
betakes  himself,  to  keep  body  and  soul  together.    Thus  j 
is  profit  made  from  the  pauperism  of  men,  the  slavery  of  1 
children,  and  the  prostitution  of  women,  in  Great  Britain. 


OF   ENGLAND.  203 

Some  years  ago  the  following  announcement  appeared 
in  the  Village  Gazette : — 

"  Peter  Moreau  and  his  wife  are  dead,  aged  twenty-five  years. 
Too  much  work  has  killed  them  and  many  besides.  "We  say — 
Work  like  a  negro,  like  a  galley-slave:  we  ought  to  say — Work 
like  a  freeman/' 

Work  like  negro  slaves,  indeed !  There  is  no  such 
work  in  America,  even  among  the  slaves ;  all  day  long, 
from  Monday  morning  till  Saturday  night,  week  after 
week,  and  year  after  year,  till  the  machine  is  worn  out. 
American  slaves  and  convicts  in  New  South  Wales  are 
fat  and  happy,  compared  with  the  labourers  of  England. 
It  frequently  happens  that  Englishmen  commit  crimes 
for  the  purpose  of  becoming  galley-slaves  in  New  South 
Wales.  They  do  not  keep  their  purpose  secret ;  they 
declare  it  loudly  with  tears  and  passionate  exclamations 
to  the  magistrate  who  commits  them  for  trial,  to  the 
jury  who  try  them,  and  to  the  judge  who  passes  sen- 
tence on  them.  This  is  published  in  the  newspapers, 
but  so  often  that  it  excites  no  particular  comment. 

The  parish  apprentices  are  the  worst-treated  slaves 
in  the  world.  They  are  at  the  mercy  of  their  masters 
and  mistresses  during .  their  term  of  apprenticeship, 
without  protectors,  and  without  appeal  against  the  most 
cruel  tyranny.  In  the  reign  of  George  III.,  one  Eliza- 
beth Brownrigg  was  hanged  for  beating  and  starving  to 
death  her  parish  apprentices.  In  1831,  another  woman^ 
Esther  Hibner  by  name,  was  hanged  in  London  foi 


204  THE  WHITE  SLAVES 

beating  and  starving  to  death  a  parish  apprentice.  Two 
instances  of  punishment,  for  thousands  of  cases  of  im- 
punity ! 

"  The  evidence  in  the  case  of  Esther  Hibner  proved  that  a  num- 
ber of  girls,  pauper  apprentices,  were  employed  in  a  workshop; 
that  their  victuals  consisted  of  garbage,  commonly  called  hog's- 
wash,  and  that  of  this  they  never  had  enough  to  stay  the  pains 
of  hunger;  that  they  were  kept  half-naked,  half-clothed  in  dirty 
rags ;  that  they  slept  in  a  heap  on  the  floor,  amid  filth  and  stench ; 
that  they  suffered  dreadfully  from  cold ;  that  they  were  forced  to 
work  so  many  hours  together  that  they  used  to  fall  asleep  while 
at  work ;  that  for  falling  asleep,  for  not  working  as  hard  as  their 
mistress  wished,  they  were  beaten  with  sticks,  with  fists,  dragged 
by  the  hair,  dashed  on  to  the  ground,  trampled  upon,  and  other- 
wise tortured ;  that  they  were  found,  all  of  them  more  or  less, 
covered  with  chilblains,  scurvy,  bruises,  and  wounds ;  that  one 
of  them  died  of  ill-treatment ;  and — mark  this — that  the  discovery 
of  that  murder  was  made  in  consequence  of  the  number  of  coffins 
which  had  issued  from  Esther  Hibner's  premises,  and  raised  the 
curiosity  of  her  neighbours.  For  this  murder  Mrs.  Hibner  was 
hanged ;  but  what  did  she  get  for  all  the  other  murders  which, 
referring  to  the  number  of  coffins,  we  have  a  right  to  believe  that 
she  committed?  She  got  for  each  £10.  That  is  to  say,  when- 
ever she  had  worked,  starved,  beaten,  dashed  and  trampled  a  girl 
to  death,  she  got  another  girl  to  treat  in  the  same  way,  with  £10 
for  her  trouble.  She  carried  on  a  trade  in  the  murder  of  parish 
apprentices ;  and  if  she  had  conducted  it  with  moderation,  if  the 
profit  and  custom  of  murder  had  not  made  her  grasping  and  care- 
less, the  constitution,  which  protects  the  poor  as  well  as  the  rich, 
would  never  have  interfered  with  her.  The  law  did  not  permit 
her  to  do  what  she  liked  with  her  apprentices,  as  Americans  do 
with  their  slaves ;  oh  no.  Those  free-born  English  children  were 
merely  bound  as  apprentices,  with  their  own  consent,  under  the 
eye  of  the  magistrate,  in  order  that  they  might  learn  a  trade  and 
become  valuable  subjects.  But  did  the  magistrate  ever  visit  Mrs. 
Hibner's  factory  to  see  how  she  treated  the  free-born  English 


OF  ENGLAND.  205 

girls  ?  never.  Did  the  parish  officers  ?  no.  "Was  there  any  legal 
provision  for  the  discovery  of  the  woman's  trade  in  murder? 
none." 

"  You  still  read  on  the  gates  of  London  poorhouses,  '  strong, 
healthy  boys  and  girls/  &c. ;  and  boys  or  girls  you  may  obtain 
by  applying  within,  as  many  as  you  please,  free-born,  with  the 
usual  fee.  Having  been  paid  for  taking  them,  and  having  gone 
through  the  ceremonies  of  asking  their  consent  and  signing  bonds 
before  a  magistrate,  you  may  make  them  into  sausages,  for  any 
thing  the  constitution  will  do  to  prevent  you.  If  it  should  be 
proved  that  you  kill  even  one  of  them,  you  will  be  hanged ;  but 
you  may  half-starve  them,  beat  them,  torture  them,  any  thing 
short  of  killing  them,  with  perfect  security;  and  using  a  little 
circumspection,  you  may  kill  them  too,  without  much  danger. 
Suppose  they  die,  who  cares?  Their  parents?  they  are  orphans, 
or  have  been  abandoned  by  their  parents.  The  parish  officers? 
very  likely,  indeed,  that  these,  when  the  poorhouse  is  crammed 
with  orphan  and  destitute  children,  should  make  inquiries  trou- 
blesome to  themselves ;  inquiries  which,  being  troublesome  to  you, 
might  deprive  them  of  your  custom  in  future.  The  magistrate? 
he  asked  the  child  whether  it  consented  to  be  your  apprentice; 
the  child  said  l  Yes,  your  worship ;'  and  there  his  worship's  duty 
ends.  The  neighbours?  of  course,  if  you  raise  their  curiosity  like 
Esther  Hibner,  but  not  otherwise.  In  order  to  be  quite  safe,  I 
tell  you  you  must  be  a  little  circumspect.  But  let  us  suppose 
that  you  are  timid,  and  would  drive  a  good  trade  without  the 
shadow  of  risk.  In  that  case,  half-starve  your  apprentices,  cuff 
them,  kick  them,  torment  them  till  they  run  away  from  you. 
They  will  not  go  back  to  the  poorhouse,  because  there  they  would 
be  flogged  for  having  run  away  from  you :  besides,  the  poorhouse 
is  any  thing  but  a  pleasant  place.  The  boys  will  turn  beggars 
or  thieves,  and  the  girls  prostitutes ;  you  will  have  pocketed  £10 
for  each  of  them,  and  may  get  more  boys  and  girls  on  the  same 
terms,  to  treat  in  the  same  way.  This  trade  is  as  safe  as  it  is 
profitable."* 


*  England  and  America,  Harpers  &  Brothers,  publishers,  1834* 
J 


206  THE  WHITE  SLAVES 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  WORKHOUSE   SYSTEM   OF   BRITAIN. 

THE  English  writers  generally  point  to  the  poor-laws 
of  their  country  as  a  proud  evidence  of  the  merciful  and 
benevolent  character  of  the  government.  Look  at  those 
laws !  so  much  have  we  done  in  the  cause  of  humanity. 
See  how  much  money  we  expend  every  year  for  the  re- 
lief of  the  poor  !  Our  workhouses  are  maintained  at  an 
enormous  expense.  Very  well ;  but  it  takes  somewhat 
from  the  character  of  the  doctor,  to  ascertain  that  he 
gave  the  wound  he  makes  a  show  of  healing.  What  are 
the  sources  of  the  immense  pauperism  of  Britain?  The 
enormous  monopoly  of  the  soil,  and  the  vast  expense  of 
civil  and  ecclesiastical  aristocracy.  The  first  takes  work 
from  one  portion  of  the  people,  and  the  latter  takes  the 
profits  of  work  from  the  other  portion.  The  "  glorious 
institutions"  of  Britain  crowd  the  workhouses;  and  we 
are  now  going  to  show  the  horrible  system  under  which 
paupers  are  held  in  these  establishments. 

The  labouring  classes  are  constantly  exposed  to  the 
chance  of  going  to  the  workhouse.  Their  wages  are  so 
low,  or  so  preyed  upon  by  taxes,  that  they  have  no 
opportunity  of  providing  for  a  «  rainy  day."  A  few 


OF   ENGLAND.  20T 

weeks'  sickness,  a  few  weeks'  absence  of  work,  and, 
starvation  staring  them  in  the  face,  they  are  forced  to 
apply  to  the  parish  authorities  for  relief.  Once  within 
the  gate  of  the  workhouse,  many  never  entertain  the 
idea  of  coming  out  until  they  are  carried  forth  in  their 
coffins. 

Each  parish  has  a  workhouse,  which  is  under  the 
control  of  several  guardians,  who,  again,  are  under  the 
orders  of  a  Board  of  Commissioners  sitting  at  London. 
Many — perhaps  a  majority — of  the  guardians  of  the 
parishes  are  persons  without  those  humane  feelings 
which  should  belong  to  such  officials,  and  numerous 
petty  brutalities  are  added  to  those  which  are  inherent 
in  the  British  workhouse  system. 

Robert  Southey  says 


"  When  the  poor  are  incapable  of  contributing  any  longer  to 
their  own  support,  they  are  removed  to  what  is  called  the  work- 
house. I  cannot  express  to  you  the  feelings  of  hopelessness  and 
dread  with  which  all  the  decent  poor  look  on  to  this  wretched 
termination  of  a  life  of  labour.  To  this  place  all  vagrants  are 
sent  for  punishment ;  unmarried  women  with  child  go  here  to  be 
delivered  ;  and  poor  orphans  and  base-born  children  are  brought 
up  here  until  they  are  of  age  to  be  apprenticed  off;  the  other  in- 
mates ar«  of  those  unhappy  people  who  are  utterly  helpless,  parish 
idiots  and  madmen,  the  blind  and  the  palsied,  and  the  old  who 
are  fairly  worn  out.  It  is  not  in  the  nature  of  things  that  the 
superintendents  of  such  institutions  as  these  should  be  gentle- 
hearted,  when  the  superintendence  is  undertaken  merely  for  the 
sake  of  the  salary.  To  this  society  of  wretchedness  the  labouring 
poor  of  England  look  as  their  last  resting-place  on  this  side  of  the 
grave ;  and,  rather  than  enter  abodes  so  miserable,  they  endure* 
the  severest  privations  as  long  as  it  is  possible  to  exist,  A  feel- 


208  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

ing  of  honest  pride  makes  them  shrink  from  a  place  where  guilt 
and  poverty  are  confounded ;  and  it  is  heart-breaking  for  those 
who  have  reared  a  family  of  their  own  to  be  subjected,  in  their 
old  age,  to  the  harsh  and  unfeeling  authority  of  persons  younger 
than  themselves,  neither  better  born  nor  better  bred." 

This  is  no  less  true,  than  admirable  as  a  specimen  of 
prose.  It  was  true  when  Southey  penned  it,  and  it  is 
true  now.  Let  us  look  at  some  of  the  provisions  of  the 
poor-laws  of  England,  which  form  the  much-lauded  sys- 
tem of  charity. 

One  of  these  provisions  refuses  relief  to  those  who 
will  not  accept  that  relief  except  in  the  character  of 
inmates  of  the  workhouse,  and  thus  compels  the  poor 
applicants  to  either  perish  of  want  or  tear  asunder  all 
the  ties  of  home.  To  force  the  wretched  father  from 
the  abode  of  his  family,  is  a  piece  of  cruelty  at  which 
every  humane  breast  must  revolt.  What  wonder  that 
many  perish  for  want  of  food,  rather  than  leave  all  that 
is  dear  to  them  on  earth  ?  If  they  must  die,  they  prefer 
to  depart  surrounded  by  affectionate  relatives,  rather 
than  by  callous  "  guardians  of  the  poor/'  who  calculate 
the  trouble  and  the  expense  of  the  burial  before  the 
breath  leaves  the  body.  The  framers  of  the  poor-laws 
forgot — perchance — that,  "Be  it  ever  so  humble,  there's 
no  place  like  home." 

Another  provision  of  the  poor-laws  denies  the  conso- 
lations of  religion  to  those  whose  conscientious  scruples 
jwill  not  allow  them  to  worship  according  to  the  forms 
of  the  established  church.  This  is  totally  at  variance 


OF   ENOLAND.  209 

•with  the  spirit  of  true  Christianity,  and  a  most  barbarous 
privation.  One  would  think  that  British  legislators 
doubted  the  supreme  efficacy  of  the  Christian  faith  in 
saving  souls  from  destruction.  Why  should  not  the 
balm  be  applied,  regardless  of  the  formal  ceremonies, 
if  it  possesses  any  healing  virtues  ?  But  the  glory  of 
the  English  Church  is  its  iron  observance  of  forms; 
and,  rather  than  relax  one  jot,  it  would  permit  the  souls 
of  millions  to  be  swept  away  into  the  gloom  of  eternal 
night. 

Then,  there  is  the  separation  regulation,  dragging 
after  it  a  long  train  of  horrors  and  heart-rending  suf- 
ferings— violating  the  law  of  holy  writ — "  Whom  God 
hath  joined  together,  let  no  man  put  asunder" — and 
trampling  upon  the  best  feelings  of  human  nature. 

A  thrilling  illustration  of  the  operation  of  this  law  is 
narrated  by  Mr.  James  Grant.*  We  quote : — 

"Two  persons,  man  and  wife,  of  very  advanced  years,  were  at 
last,  through  the  infirmities  consequent  on  old  age,  rendered  in- 
capable of  providing  for  themselves.  Their  friends  were  like 
themselves,  poor ;  but,  so  long  as  they  could,  they  afforded  them 
all  the  assistance  in  their  power.  The  infirmities  of  the  aged 
couple  became  greater  and  greater ;  so,  as  a  necessary  conse- 
quence, did  their  wants.  The  guardians  of  the  poor — their  parish 
being  under  the  operation  of  the  new  measure — refused  to  afford 
them  the  slightest  relief.  What  was  to  be  done  ?  They  had  no 
alternative  but  starvation  and  the  workhouse.  To  have  gone  to 
the  workhouse,  even  had  they  been  permitted  to  live  together, 


*  Every-day  Life  in  London. 


210  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

could  have  been  painful  enough  to  their  feelings ;  but  to  go  there 
to  be  separated  from  each  other,  was  a  thought  at  which  their 
hearts  sickened.  They  had  been  married  for  nearly  half  a  cen- 
tury ;  and  during  all  that  time  had  lived  in  the  greatest  harmony 
together.  I  am  speaking  the  language  of  unexaggerated  truth 
when  I  say,  that  their  affection  for  each  other  increased,  instead 
of  suffering  diminution,  as  they  advanced  in  years.  A  purer  or 
stronger  attachment  than  theirs  has  never,  perhaps,  existed  in  a 
world  in  which  there  is  so  much  of  mutability  as  in  ours.  Many 
were  the  joys  and  many  were  the  sorrows  which  they  had  equally 
shared  with  each  other.  Their  joys  were  increased,  because  par- 
ticipated in  by  both :  their  sorrows  were  lessened,  because  of  the 
consolations  they  assiduously  administered  to  each  other  when 
the  dispensations  of  Providence  assumed  a  lowering  aspect.  The 
reverses  they  had  experienced,  in  the  course  of  their  long  and 
eventful  union,  had  only  served  to  attach  them  the  more  strongly 
to  each  other,  just  as  the  tempestuous  blast  only  serves  to  cause 
the  oak  to  strike  its  roots  more  deeply  in  the  earth.  With  minda 
originally  constituted  alike,  and  that  constitution  being  based  on 
a  virtuous  foundation,  it  was,  indeed,  to  be  expected  that  the  lapse 
of  years  would  only  tend  to  strengthen  their  attachment.  Nothing, 
in  a  word,  could  have  exceeded  the  ardour  of  their  sympathy  with 
each  other.  The  only  happiness  which  this  world  could  afford 
them  was  derived  from  the  circumstance  of  being  in  each  other's 
company ;  and  the  one  looked  forward  to  the  possibility  of  being 
left  alone,  when  the  other  was  snatched  away  by  death,  with  feel- 
ings of  the  deepest  pain  and  apprehension.  Their  wish  was,  in 
subordination  to  the  will  of  the  Supreme  Being,  that  as  they  had 
been  so  long  united  in  life,  so  in  death  they  might  not  be  divided. 
Their  wish  was  in  one  sense  realized,  though  not  in  the  sense  they 
had  desired.  The  pressure  of  want,  aggravated  by  the  increasing 
infirmities  of  the  female,  imposed  on  her  the  necessity  of  repairing 
to  the  workhouse.  The  husband  would  most  willingly  have  fol- 
lowed, had  they  been  permitted  to  live  together  when  there,  in 
the  hope  that  they  should,  even  in  that  miserable  place,  be  able 
to  assuage  each  other's  griefs,  as  they  had  so  often  done  before. 
That  was  a  permission,  however,  which  was  not  to  be  granted  to 


OF   ENGLAND.  211 

them.  The  husband  therefore  determined  that  he  would  live  on  a 
morsel  of  bread  and  a  draught  of  cold  water,  where  he  was,  rather 
than  submit  to  the  degradation  of  a  workhouse,  in  which  he  would 
be  separated  from  her  who  had  been  the  partner  of  his  joys  and 
griefs  for  upward  of  half  a  century.  The  hour  of  parting  came ; 
and  a  sad  and  sorrowful  hour  it  was  to  the  aged  couple.  Who 
shall  describe  their  feelings  on  the  occasion  ?  Who  can  even 
enter  into  those  feelings?  No  one.  They  could  only  be  con- 
ceived by  themselves.  The  process  of  separation  was  as  full  of 
anguish  to  their  mental  nature  as  is  the  severance  of  a  limb  from 
the  body  to  the  physical  constitution.  And  that  separation  was 
aggravated  by  the  circumstance,  that  both  felt  a  presentiment,  so 
strong  as  to  have  all  the  force  of  a  thorough  conviction,  that  their 
separation  was  to  be  final  as  regarded  this  world.  What,  then, 
must  have  been  the  agonies  of  the  parting  hour  in  the  case  of  a 
couple  whose  mental  powers  were  still  unimpaired,  and  who  had 
lived  in  the  most  perfect  harmony  for  the  protracted  period  of 
fifty  years  ?  They  were,  I  repeat,  not  only  such  as  admit  of  no 
description,  but  no  one,  who  has  not  been  similarly  circumstanced, 
can  even  form  an  idea  of  them.  The  downcast  look,  the  tender 
glances  they  emitted  to  each  other,  the  swimming  eye,  the  moist 
cheek,  the  deep-drawn  sigh,  the  choked  utterance,  the  affectionate 
embrace — all  told,  in  the  language  of  resistless  eloquence,  of  the 
anguish  caused  by  their  separation.  The  scene  was  affecting  in 
the  extreme,  even  to  the  mere  spectator.  It  was  one  which  must 
have  softened  the  hardest  heart,  as  it  drew  tears  from  every  eye 
which  witnessed  it ;  what,  then,  must  the  actual  realization  of  it 
in  all  its  power  have  been  to  the  parties  themselves  ?  The  sepa- 
ration did  take  place ;  the  poor  woman  was  wrenched  from  the 
almost  death-like  grasp  of  her  husband.  She  was  transferred  to 
the  workhouse ;  and  he  was  left  alone  in  the  miserable  hovel  in 
which  they  had  so  long  remained  together.  And  what  followed? 
What  followed !  That  may  be  soon  told :  it  is  a  short  history. 
The  former  pined  away,  and  died  in  three  weeks  after  the 
separation ;  and  the  husband  only  survived  three  weeks  more. 
Their  parting  was  thus  but  for  a  short  time,  though  final  as 


212  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

regarded  this  world.    Ere  six  weeks  had  elapsed  they  again  met 
together — 

Met  on  that  happy,  happy  shore, 
Where  friends  do  meet  to  part  no  more." 

Here  was  an  outrage,  shocking  to  every  heart  of  or- 
dinary sensibility,  committed  by  authority  of  the  British 
government,  in  due  execution  of  its  "charitable  enact- 
ments." In  searching  for  a  parallel,  we  can  only  find  it 
among  those  savage  tribes  who  kill  their  aged  and  infirm 
brethren  to  save  trouble  and  expense.  Yet  such  actions 
are  sanctioned  by  the  government  of  a  civilized  nation, 
in  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth  century ;  and  that,  too, 
when  the  government  is  parading  its  philanthropy  in 
the  face  of  the  world,  and,  pharisaically,  thanking  God 
that  it  is  not  as  other  nations  are,  authorizing  sin  and 
wrong. 

It  was  said  by  the  advocates  of  this  regulation  of 
separation,  that  paupers  themselves  have  no  objection 
to  be  separated  from  each  other ;  because,  generally 
speaking,  they  have  become  old  and  unable  to  assist 
each  other,  before  they  throw  themselves  permanently 
on  the  parish — in  other  words,  that  the  poor  have  not 
the  same  affection  for  relatives  and  friends  that  the 
wealthy  have.  Well,  that  argument  was  characteristic 
of  a  land  where  the  fineness  of  a  man's  feelings  are 
assumed  to  be  exactly  in  proportion  to  the  position  of 
his  ancestry  and  the  length  of  his  purse — perfectly  in 
keeping,  as  an  artist  would  say.  A  pauper  husband 


OF   ENGLAND.  213 

and  wife,  after  living  together,  perhaps  for  thirty  years, 
become  old  and  desire  to  be  separated,  according  to  the 
representations  of  the  British  aristocrat.  His  iron  logic 
allows  no  hearts  to  the  poor.  To  breathe  is  human — 
to  feel  is  aristocratic. 

Equally  to  be  condemned  is  the  regulation  which 
prohibits  the  visits  to  the  workhouse  of  the  friends  of 
the  inmates.  The  only  shadow  of  a  reason  for  this  is 
an  alleged  inconvenience  attending  the  admission  of 
those  persons  who  are  not  inmates ;  and  for  such  a  rea- 
son the  wife  is  prevented  from  seeing  her  husband,  the 
children  from  seeing  their  father,  and  the  poor  heart- 
broken inmate  from  seeing  a  friend — perhaps  the  only 
one  he  has  in  the  world.  We  might  suppose  that  the 
authors  of  this  regulation  had  discovered  that  adversity 
multiplies  friends,  instead  of  driving  them  away  from 
its  gloom.  Paupers  must  be  blessed  beyond  the  rest 
of  mankind  in  that  respect.  Instances  are  recorded 
in  which  dying  paupers  have  been  refused  the  consola- 
tion of  a  last  visit  from  their  children,  under  the  opera- 
tion of  this  outrageous  law.  Mr.  James  Grant  mentions 
a  case  that  came  to  his  notice  : — 

"  An  instance  occurred  a  few  months  since  in  a  workhouse  in 
the  suburbs  of  the  metropolis,  in  which  intelligence  was  acci- 
dentally conveyed  to  a  daughter  that  her  father  was  on  his  death- 
bed ;  she  hurried  that  moment  to  the  workhouse,  but  was  refused 
admission.  With  tears  in  her  eyes,  and  a  heart  that  was  ready 
to  break,  she  pleaded  the  urgency  of  the  case.  The  functionary 
was  deaf  to  her  entreaties ;  as  soon  might  she  have  addressed 


214  THE  WHITE  SLAVES 

them  to  the  brick  wall  before  her.  His  answer  was, '  It  is  con- 
trary to  the  regulations  of  the  place  ;  come  again  at  a  certain 
hour/  She  applied  to  the  medical  gentleman  who  attended  the 
workhouse,  and  through  his  exertions  obtained  admission.  She 
flew  to  the  ward  in  which  her  father  was  confined :  he  lay  cold, 
motionless,  and  unconscious  before  her — his  spirit  was  gone  ;  he 
had  breathed  his  last  five  minutes  before.  Well  may  we  exclaim, 
when  we  hear  of  such  things,  *  Do  we  live  in  a  Christian  coun- 
try ?  Is  this  a  civilized  land  V  " 

Certainly,  Mr.  Grant,  it  is  a  land  of  freedom  and  phi- 
lanthropy unknown  upon  the  rest  of  the  earth's  surface. 

From  a  survey  of  the  poor-laws  it  appears  that 
poverty  is  considered  criminal  in  Great  Britain.  The 
workhouses,  which  are  declared  to  have  been  established 
for  the  relief  of  the  poor,  are  worse  than  prisons  for 
solitary  confinement;  for  the  visits  of  friends  and  the 
consolations  of  religion,  except  under  particular  forms, 
are  denied  to  the  unhappy  inmates,  while  they  are  per- 
mitted to  the  criminal  in  his  dungeon. 

What  an  English  pauper  is  may  be  learned  from  the 
following  description  of  the  "bold  peasantry,"  which 
we  extract  from  one  of  the  countless  pamphlets  on 
pauperism  written  by  Englishmen. 

"  What  is  that  defective  being,  with  calfless  legs  and  stooping 
shoulders,  weak  in  body  and  mind,  inert,  pusillanimous  and 
stupid,  whose  premature  wrinkles  and  furtive  glance  tell  of 
misery  and  degradation  ?  That  is  an  English  peajpt  or  pauper ; 
for  the  words  are  synonymous.  His  sire  was  a  pauper,  and  his 
mother's  milk  wanted  nourishment.  From  infancy  his  food  has 
been  bad,  as  well  as  insufficient ;  and  he  now  feels  the  pains  of 
unsatisfied  hunger  nearly  whenever  he  is  awake.  Bub  half- 


OF   ENGLAND. 


215 


clothed,  and  never  supplied  with  more  warmth  than  suffices  to 
cook  his  scanty  meals,  cold  and  wet  come  to  him,  and  stay  by 
him,  with  the  weather.  lie  is  married,  of  course ;  for  to  this  he 
would  have  been  driven  by  the  poor-laws,  even  if  he  had  been, 
as  he  never  was,  sufficiently  comfortable  and  prudent  to  dread 
the  burden  of  a  family.  But,  though  instinct  and  the  overseer 
have  given  him  a  wife,  he  has  not  tasted  the  highest  joys  of  hus- 
band and  father.  His  partner  and  his  little  ones  being,  like  him- 
self, often  hungry,  seldom  warm,  sometimes  sick  without  aid,  and 
always  sorrowful  without  hope,  are  greedy,  selfish,  and  vexing ; 
so,  to  use  his  own  expression,  he  *  hates  the  sight  of  them/  and 
resorts  to  his  hovel  only  because  a  hedge  affords  less  shelter  from 
the  wind  and  rain.  Compelled  by  parish  law  to  support  his 
family,  which  means  to  join  them  in  consuming  an  allowance 
from  the  parish,  he  frequently  conspires  with  his  wife  to  get  that 
allowance  increased,  or  prevent  its  being  diminished.  This 
brings  begging,  trickery,  and  quarrelling;  and  ends  in  settled 
craft.  Though  he  has  the  inclination  he  wants  the  courage  to 
become,  like  more  energetic  .men  of  his  class,  a  poacher  or  smug- 
gler on  a  large  scale  ;  but  he  pilfers  occasionally,  and  teaches 
his  children  to  lie  and  steal.  His  subdued  and  slavish  manner 
toward  his  great  neighbours  shows  that  they  treat  him  with  sus- 
picion and  harshness.  Consequently  he  at  once  dreads  and  hates 
them ;  but  he  will  never  harm  them  by  violent  means.  Too  de- 
graded to  be  desperate,  he  is  only  thoroughly  depraved.  His 
miserable  career  will  be  short ;  rheumatism  and  asthma  are  con- 
ducting him  to  the  workhouse,  where  he  will  breathe  his  last 
without  one  pleasant  recollection,  and  so  make  room  for  another 
wretch,  who  may  live  and  die  in  the  same  way.  This  is  a  sam- 
•ple  of  one  class  of  English  peasants.  Another  class  is  composed 
of  men  who,  though  paupers  to  the  extent  of  being  in  part  sup- 
ported by  the  parish,  were  not  bred  and  born  in  extreme  destitu- 
tion, and  1&o,  therefore,  in  so  far  as  the  moral  depends  on  the 
physical  man,  are  qualified  to  become  wise,  virtuous,  and  happy. 
They  have  large  muscles,  an  upright  mien,  and  a  quick  percep- 
tion. JVith  strength,  energy,  and  skill,  they  would  earn  a  com- 
fortable subsistence  as  labourers,  if  the  modern  fashion  of  paying 


216  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

wages  out  of  the  poor-box  did  not  interfere  with  the  due  course 
of  things,  and  reduce  all  the  labourers  of  a  parish,  the  old  and 
the  young,  the  weak  and  the  strong,  the  idle  and  the  industrious, 
to  that  lowest  rate  of  wages,  or  rather  of  weekly  payment  to 
each,  which,  in  each  case,  is  barely  sufficient  for  the  support  of 
life.  If  there  were  no  poor-laws,  or  if  the  poor-laws  were  such 
that  labour  was  paid  in  proportion  to  the  work  performed,  and 
not  according  to  a  scale  founded  on  the  power  of  gastric  juice 
under  various  circumstances,  these  superior  men  would  be  em- 
ployed in  preference  to  the  inferior  beings  described  above, 
would  earn  twice  as  much  as  the  others  could  earn,  and  would 
have  every  motive  for  industry,  providence,  and  general  good 
conduct.  As  it  is,  their  superior  capacity  as  labourers  is  of  no 
advantage  to  them.  They  have  no  motive  for  being  industrious 
or  prudent.  What  they  obtain  between  labour  and  the  rate  is 
but  just  enough  to  support  them  miserably.  They  are  tempted 
to  marry  for  the  sake  of  an  extra  allowance  from  the  parish :  and 
they  would  be  sunk  to  the  lowest  point  of  degradation  but  for  the 
energy  of  their  minds,  which  they  owe  to  their  physical  strength. 
Courage  and  tenderness  are  said  to  be  allied :  men  of  this  class 
usually  make  good  husbands  and  affectionate  parents.  Impelled 
by  want  of  food,  clothes,  and  warmth,  for  themselves  and  their 
families,  they  become  poachers  wherever  game  abounds,  and 
smugglers  when  opportunity  serves.  By  poaching  or  smuggling, 
or  both,  many  of  them  are  enabled  to  fill  the  bellies  of  their  chil- 
dren, to  put  decent  clothes  on  the  backs  of  their  wives,  and  to 
keep  the  cottage  whole,  with  a  good  fire  in  it,  from  year's  end  to 
year's  end.  The  villains  !  why  are  they  not  taken  up  ?  They 
are  taken  up  sometimes,  and  are  hunted  always,  by  those  who 
administer  rural  law.  In  this  way  they  learn  to  consider  two 
sets  of  laws — those  for  the  protection  of  game,  and  those  for  the 
protection  of  home  manufactures — as  specially  made  for  their 
injury.  Be  just  to  our  unpaid  magistrates !  who  perform  their 
duty,  even  to  the  shedding  of  man's  blood,  in  defence  of  phea- 
sants and  restrictions  on  trade.  Thus  the  bolder  sort  of  husbandry 
labourers,  by  engaging  in  murderous  conflicts  with  gamekeepers 
and  preventive  men,  become  accustomed  to  deeds  of  violence, 


OF   ENGLAND.  217 

and,  by  living  in  jails,  qualified  for  the  most  desperate  courses. 
They  also  imbibe  feelings  of  dislike,  or  rather  of  bitter  hatred, 
toward  the  rural  magistracy,  whom  they  regard  as  oppressors 
and  natural  enemies ;  closely  resembling,  in  this  respect,  the 
defective  class  of  peasants  from  whom  they  differ  in  so  many  par- 
ticulars. Between  these  two  descriptions  of  peasantry  there  is 
another,  which  partakes  of  the  characteristics  of  both  classes,  but 
in  a  slighter  degree,  except  as  regards  their  fear  and  hatred  of 
the  rural  aristocracy.  In  the  districts  where  paupers  and  game 
abound,  it  would  be  difficult  to  find  many  labourers  not  coming 
under  one  of  these  descriptions.  By  courtesy,  the  entire  body  is 
called  the  bold  peasantry  of  England.  But  is  nothing  done  by 
the  '  nobility,  clergy,  and  gentry/  to  conciliate  the  affection  of  the 
pauper  mass,  by  whose  toil  all  their  own  wealth  is  produced? 
Charity !  The  charity  of  the  poor-laws,  which  paupers  have  been 
taught  to  consider  a  right,  which  operates  as  a  curse  to  the  able- 
bodied  and  well-disposed,  while  it  but  just  enables  the  infirm  of 
all  ages,  to  linger  on  in  pain  and  sorrow.  Soup !  Dogs'-meat, 
the  paupers  call  it.  They  are  very  ungrateful;  but  there  is  a 
way  of  relieving  a  man's  necessities  which  will  make  him  hate 
you ;  and  it  is  in  this  way,  generally,  that  soup  is  given  to  the 
poor.  Books,  good  little  books,  which  teach  patience  and  submis 
sion  to  the  powers  that  be  !  With  which  such  paupers  as  obtain 
them  usually  boil  their  kettles,  when  not  deterred  by  fear  of  the 
reverend  donor.  Of  this  gift  the  design  is  so  plain  and  offensive, 
that  its  effect  is  contrary  to  what  was  intended,  just  as  children 
from  whom  obedience  is  very  strictly  exacted  are  commonly 
rebels  at  heart.  What  else  ?  is  nothing  else  done  by  the  rural 
rich  to  win  the  love  of  the  rural  poor?  Speaking  generally, 
since  all  rules  have  exceptions,  the  privileged  classes  of  our  rural 
districts  take  infinite  pains  to  be  abhorred  by  their  poorest  neigh- 
bours. They  enclose  commons.  They  stop  footpaths.  They 
wall  in  their  pirks.  They  set  spring-guns  and  man-traps.  They 
spend  on  the  keep  of  high-bred  dogs  what  would  support  half  as 
many  children,  and  yet  persecute  a  labouring  man  for  owning 
one  friend  in  his  cur.  They  make  rates  of  wages,  elaborately 
calculating  the  minimum  of  food  that  will  keep  together  the  soul 

15 


218       '  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

and  body  of  a  clodhopper.  They  breed  game  in  profusion  for 
their  own  amusement,  and  having  thus  tempted  the  poor  man  to 
knock  down  a  hare  for  his  pot,  they  send  him  to  the  tread-mill, 
or  the  antipodes,  for  that  inexpiable  offence.  They  build  jails, 
and  fill  them.  They  make  new  crimes  and  new  punishments  for 
the  poor.  They  interfere  with  the  marriages  of  the  poor,  com- 
pelling some,  and  forbidding  others,  to  come  together.  They  shut 
up  paupers  in  workhouses,  separating  husband  and  wife,  in 
pounds  by  day  and  wards  by  night.  They  harness  poor  men  to 
carts.  They  superintend  alehouses,  decry  skittles,  deprecate 
beer-shops,  meddle  with  fairs,  and  otherwise  curtail  the  already 
narrow  amusements  of  the  poor.  Even  in  church,  where  some 
of  them  solemnly  preach  that  all  are  equal,  they  sit  on  cushions, 
in  pews  boarded,  matted,  and  sheltered  by  curtains  from  the  wind 
and  the  vulgar  gaze,  while  the  lower  order  must  put  up  with  a 
bare  bench  on  a  stone  floor,  which  is  good  enough  for  them. 
Everywhere  they  are  ostentatious  in  the  display  of  wealth  and 
enjoyment;  while,  in  their 'intercourse  with  the  poor,  they  are 
suspicious,  quick  at  taking  offence,  vindictive  when  displeased, 
haughty,  overbearing,  tyrannical,  and  wolfish ;  as  it  seems  in 
the  nature  of  man  to  be  toward  such  of  his  fellows  as,  like  sheep, 
are  without  the  power  to  resist." 

In  London,  a  species  of  slavery  pertains  to  the  work- 
house system  which  has  justly  excited  much  indignation. 
This  is  the  employment  of  paupers  as  scavengers  in  the 
streets,  without  due  compensation,  and  compelling  them 
to  wear  badges,  as  if  they  were  convicted  criminals. 
Mr.  Mayhew  has  some  judicious  remarks  upon  this  sub- 
ject :— 

"  If  pauperism  be  a  disgrace,  then  it  is  unjust  to  turn  a  man 
into  the  public  thoroughfare,  wearing  the  badge  of  beggary,  to  be 
pointed  at  and  scorned  for  his  poverty,  especially  when  we  are 
growing  so  particularly  studious  of  our  criminals  that  we  make 


OP  ENGLAND.  219 

them  wear  masks  to  prevent  even  their  faces  being  seen.*  Nor 
is  it  consistent  with  the  principles  of  an  enlightened  national 
morality  that  we  should  force  a  body  of  honest  men  to  labour 
upon  the  highways,  branded  with  a  degrading  garb,  like  convicts. 
Neither  is  it  wise  to  do  so,  for  the  shame  of  poverty  soon  becomes 
deadened  by  the  repeated  exposure  to  public  scorn;  and  thus  the 
occasional  recipient  of  parish  relief  is  ultimately  converted  into 
the  hardened  and  habitual  pauper.  "Once  a  pauper  always  a 
pauper,"  I  was  assured  was  the  parish  rule ;  and  here  lies  the 
rationale  of  the  fact.  Not  long  ago  this  system  of  employing  badged 
paupers  to  labour  on  the  public  thoroughfares  was  carried  to  a 
much  more  offensive  extent  than  it  is  even  at  present.  At  one 
time  the  pauper  labourers  of  a  certain  parish  had  the  attention  of 
every  passer-by  attracted  to  them  while  at  their  work,  for  on  the 
back  of  each  man's  garb — a  sort  of  smock  frock — was  marked, 
with  sufficient  prominence, '  CLERKENWELL.  STOP  IT!'  This  pub- 
lic intimation  that  the  labourers  were  not  only  paupers,  but  regard- 
ed as  thieves,  and  expected  to  purloin  the  parish  dress  they  wore, 
attracted  public  attention,  and  was  severely  commented  upon  at  a 
meeting.  The  '  STOP  IT  !'  therefore  was  cancelled,  and  the  frocks 
are  now  merely  lettered  *  CLERKENWELL/  Before  the  alteration 
the  men  very  generally  wore  the  garment  inside  out." 

The  pauper  scavengers  employed  by  the  metropoli- 
tan parishes  are  divided  into  three  classes:  1.  The 
in-door  paupers,  who  Deceive  no  wages  whatever,  their 
lodging,  food,  and  clothing  being  considered  to  be  suffi- 
cient remuneration  for  their  labour;  2.  The  out-door 
paupers,  who  are  paid  partly  in  money  and  partly  in 
kind,  and  employed  in  some  cases  three  days,  and  in 
others  six  days  in  the  week;  3.  The  unemployed  la- 
bourers of  the  district,  who  are  set  to  scavenging  work 

*  This  is  done  at  the  Model  Prison,  Pentonville. 


220  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

by  the  parish  and  paid  a  regular  money-wage — the  em- 
ployment being  constant,  and  the  rate  of  remuneration 
varying  from  Is.  3d.  to  2s.  Qd.  a  day  for  each  of  the  six 
days,  or  from  7s.  6d.  to  15s.  a  week. 

The  first  class  of  pauper-scavengers,  or  those  who  re- 
ceive nothing  for  their  labour  beyond  their  lodging,  food, 
and  clothing,  are  treated  as  slaves.  The  labour  is  com- 
pulsory, without  inducements  for  exertion,  and  conducted 
upon  the  same  system  which  the  authorities  of  the  parish 
would  use  for  working  cattle.  One  of  these  scavengers 
gave  the  following  account  of  this  degrading  labour  to 
Mr.  Mayhew : — 

"'Street-sweeping/  he  said,  ' degrades  a  man,  and  if  a  man's 
poor  he  hasn't  no  call  to  be  degraded.  Why  can't  they  set  the 
thieves  and  pickpockets  to  sweep  ?  they  could  be  watched  easy 
enough ;  there's  always  idle  fellers  as  reckons  theirselves  real 
gents,  as  can  be  got  for  watching  and  sitch  easy  jobs,  for  they 
gets  as  much  for  them  as  three  men's  paid  for  hard  work  in  a 
week.  I  never  was  in  a  prison,  but  I've  heerd  that  people  there 
is  better  fed  and  better  cared  for  than  in  workusses.  What's  the 
meaning  of  that,  sir,  I'd  like  to  know.  You  can't  tell  me,  but  I 
can  tell  you.  The  workus  is  made  as  ugly  as  it  can  be,  that  poor 
people  may  be  got  to  leave  it,  and  chance  dying  in  the  street 
rather.'  [Here  the  man  indulged  in  a  gabbled  detail  of  a  series 
of  pauper  grievances  which  I  had  a  difficulty  in  diverting  or  inter- 
rupting. On  my  asking  if  the  other  paupers  had  the  same  opinion 
as  to  the  street-sweeping  as  he  had,  he  replied : — ]  *  To  be  sure 
they  has ;  all  them  that  has  sense  to  have  a  'pinion  at  all  has ; 
there's  not  two  sides  to  it  anyhow.  No,  I  don't  want  to  be  kept 
and  do  nothmk.  I  -want  proper  work.  And  by  the  rights  of  it  I 

might  as  well  be  kept  with  nothmk  to  do  as or '  [parish 

officials].    'Have  they  nothing  to  do?'  I  asked.     'Nothmk,  but 


OF  ENGLAND.  221 

to  make  mischief  and  get  what  ought  to  go  to  the  poor.  It's  sala- 
ries and  such  like  as  swallers  the  rates,  and  that's  what  every 
poor  family  knows  as  knows  any  think.  Did  I  ever  like  my  work 
better?  Certainly  not.  Do  I  take  any  pains  with  it?  Well, 
where  would  be  the  good?  I  can  sweep  well  enough,  when  I  please, 
but  if  I  could  do  more  than  the  best  man  as  ever  Mr.  Drake  paid 
a  pound  a  week  to,  it  wouldn't  be  a  bit  better  for  me — not  a  bit, 
sir,  I  assure  you.  We  all  takes  it  easy  whenever  we  can,  but  the 
work  must  be  done.  The  only  good  about  it  is  that  you  get  out- 
side the  house.  It's  a  change  that  way  certainly.  But  we  work 
like  horses  and  is  treated  like  asses/ ;' 

The  second  mode  of  pauper  scavenging,  viz.  that 
performed  by  out-door  paupers,  and  paid  for  partly  in 
money  and  partly  in  kind,  is  strongly  condemned,  as 
having  mischievous  and  degrading  tendencies.  The 
men  thus  employed  are  certainly  not  independent  la- 
bourers, though  the  means  of  their  subsistence  are  partly 
the  fruits  of  their  toil.  Their  exceedingly  scant  pay- 
ment keeps  them  hard  at  work  for  a  very  unreasonable 
period.  Should  they  refuse  to  obey  the  parish  regula- 
tions in  regard  to  the  work,  the  pangs  of  hunger  are 
sure  to  reach  them  and  compel  them  to  submit.  Death 
is  the  only  door  of  escape.  From  a  married  man  em- 
ployed by  the  parish  in  this  work,  Mr.  Mayhew  obtained 
the  following  interesting  narrative,  which  is  a  sad  reve- 
lation of  pauper  slavery  :• — 

" '  I  was  brought  up  as  a  type-founder;  my  father,  who  was  one, 
learnt  me  his  trade  ;  but  he  died  when  I  was  quite  a  young  man, 
or  I  might  have  been  better  perfected  in  it.  I  was  comfortably 
off  enough  then,  and  got  married.  Very  soon  after  that  I  was 


222  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

taken  ill  with  an  abscess  in  my  neck,  you  can  see  the  mark  of  it 
still/  [He  showed  me  the  mark.]  '  For  six  months  I  wasn't  able 
to  do  a  thing,  and  I  was  a  part  of  the  time,  I  don't  recollect  how 
long,  in  St.  Bartholomew's  Hospital.  I  was  weak  and  ill  when  I 
came  out,  and  hardly  fit  for  work ;  I  couldn't  hear  of  any  work  I 
could  get,  for  there  was  a  great  bother  in  the  trade  between  mas- 
ter and  men.  Before  I  went  into  the  hospital,  there  was  money 
to  pay  to  doctors ;  and  when  I  came  out  I  could  earn  nothing,  so 
every  thing  went ;  yes,  sir,  every  thing.  My  wife  made  a  little 
matter  with  charing  for  families  she'd  lived  in,  but  things  are  in 
a  bad  way  if  a  poor  woman  has  to  keep  her  husband.  She  was 
taken  ill  at  last,  and  then  there  was  nothing  but  the  parish  for  us. 
I  suffered  a  great  deal  before  it  come  to  that.  It  was  awful.  No 
one  can  know  what  it  is  but  them  that  suffers  it.  But  I  didn't 
know  what  in  the  world  to  do.  We  lived  then  in  St.  Luke's,  and 
were  passed  to  our  own  parish,  and  were  three  months  in  the 
workhouse.  The  living  was  good  enough,  better  than  it  is  now, 
Fve  heard,  but  I  was  miserable/  ['And  I  was  very  miserable/ 
interposed  the  wife,  *  for  I  had  been  brought  up  comfortable ;  my 
father  was  a  respectable  tradesman  in  St.  George's-in-the-East,  and 
I  had  been  in  good  situations/]  *  We  made  ourselves/  said  the 
husband,  'as  useful  as  we  could,  but  we  were  parted  of  course. 
At  the  three  months'  end,  I  had  10s.  given  to  me  to  come  out  with, 
and  was  told  I  might  start  costermongering  on  it.  But  to  a  man 
not  up  to  the  trade,  10s.  won't  go  very  far  to  keep  up  coster  ing. 
I  didn't  feel  master  enough  of  my  own  trade  by  this  time  to  try 
for  work  at  it,  and  work  wasn't  at  all  regular.  There  were  good 
hands  earning  only  12s.  a  week.  The  10s.  soon  went,  and  I  had 
again  to  apply  for  relief,  and  got  an  order  for  the  stone-yard  to  go 
and  break  stones.  Ten  bushels  was  to  be  broken  for  ~L5d.  It  was 
dreadful  hard  work  at  first.  My  hands  got  all  blistered  and 
bloody,  and  I've  gone  home  and  cried  with  pain  and  wretched- 
ness. At  first  it  was  on  to  three  days  before  I  could  break  the  ten 
bushels.  I  felt  shivered  to  bits  all  over  my  arms  and  shoulders, 
and  my  head  was  splitting.  I  then  got  to  do  it  in  two  days,  and 
then  in  one,  and  it  grew  easier.  But  all  this  time  I  had  only 
•what  was  reckoned  three  days'  work  in  a  week.  That  is,  you  see, 


OF  ENGLAND.  223 

sir,  I  had  only  three  times  ten  bushels  of  stones  given  to  break  in 
a  week,  and  earned  only  3s.  9cZ.  Yes,  I  lived  on  it,  and  paid  Is. 
6(Z.  a  week  rent,  for  the  neighbours  took  care  of  a  few  sticks  for  us, 
and  the  parish  or  a  broker  wouldn't  have  found  them  worth  car- 
-riage.  My  wife  was  then  in  the  country  with  a  sister.  I  lived 
upon  bread  and  dripping,  went  without  fire  or  candle  (or  had  one 
only  very  seldom)  though  it  wasn't  warm  weather.  I  can  safely 
say  that  for  eight  weeks  I  never  tasted  one  bite  of  meat,  and  hardly 
a  bite  of  butter.  When  I  couldn't  sleep  of  a  night,  but  that  wasn't 
often,  it  was  terrible,  very.  I  washed  what  bits  of  things  I  had 
then,  myself,  and  had  sometimes  to  get  a  ha'porth  of  soap  as  a 
favour,  as  the  chandler  said  she  *  didn't  make  less  than  a  penn'orth/ 
If  I  ate  too  much  dripping,  it  made  me  feel  sick.  I  hardly  know 
how  much  bread  and  dripping  I  ate  in  a  week.  I  spent  what 
money  I  had  in  it  and  bread,  and  sometimes  went  without.  I  was 
very  weak,  you  may  be  sure,  sir ;  and  if  I'd  had  the  influenza  or 
any  thing  that  way,  I  should  have  gone  off  like  a  shot,  for  I  seemed 
to  have  no  constitution  left.  But  my  wife  came  back  again  and 
got  work  at  charing,  and  made  about  4s.  a  week  at  it ;  but  we 
were  still  very  badly  off.  Then  I  got  to  work  on  the  roads  every 
day,  and  had  Is.  and  a  quartern  loaf  a  day,  which  was  a  rise.  I 
had  only  one  child  then,  but  men  with,  larger  families  got  two 
quartern  loaves  a  day.  Single  men  got  $d.  a  day.  It  was  far 
easier  work  than  stone-breaking  too.  The  hours  were  from  eight 
to  five  in  winter,  and  from  seven  to  six  in  summer.  But  there's 
always  changes  going  on,  and  we  were  put  on  Is.  l%d.  a  day  and 
a  quartern  loaf,  and  only  three  days  a  week.  All  the  same  as  to 
time  of  course.  The  bread  wasn't  good ;  it  was  only  cheap.  I 
suppose  there  was  twenty  of  us  working  most  of  the  times  as  I 
was.  The  gangsman,  as  you  call  him,  but  that's  more  for  the 
regular  hands,  was  a  servant  of  the  parish,  and  a  great  tyrant. 
Yes,  indeed,  when  we  had  a  talk  among  ourselves,  there  was 
nothing  but  grumbling  heard  of.  Some  of  the  tales  I've  heard 
were  shocking ;  worse  than  what  I've  gone  through.  Everybody 
was  grumbling,  except  perhaps  two  men  that  had  been  twnty 
years  in  the  streets,  and  were  like  born  paupers.  They  didn't 
feel  it,  for  there's  a  great  difference  in  men.  They  knew  no  better. 


224  THE  WHITE   SLAVES. 

But  anybody  might  have  been  frightened  to  hear  some  of  the 
men  talk  and  curse.  We've  stopped  work  to  abuse  the  parish 
officers  as  might  be  passing.  We've  mobbed  the  overseers ;  and  a 
number  of  us,  I  was  one,  were  taken  before  the  magistrate  for  it : 
but  we  told  him  how  badly  we  were  off,  and  he  .discharged  us,  and 
gave  us  orders  into  the  workhouse,  and  told  'em  to  see  if  nothing 
could  be  done  for  us.  We  were  there  till  next  morning,  and  then 
sent  away  without  any  thing  being  said/  " 

"  '  It's  a  sad  life,  sir,  is  a  parish  worker's.  I  wish  to  God  I  could 
get  out  of  it.  But  when  a  man  has  children  he  can't  stop  and 
say,  "  I  can't  do  this,"  and  "  I  won't  do  that."  Last  week,  now, 
in  costering,  I  lost  65.  [he  meant  that  his  expenses,  of  every  kind, 
exceeded  his  receipts  by  65.,]  and  though  I  can  distil  nectar,  or 
any  thing  that  way,  [this  was  said  somewhat  laughingly,]  it's  only 
when  the  weather's  hot  and  fine  that  any  good  at  all  can  be  done 
with  it.  I  think,  too,  that  there's  not  the  money  among  working- 
men  that  there  once  was.  Any  thing  regular  in  the  way  of  pay 
must  always  be  looked  at  by  a  man  with  a  family. 

"  'Of  course  the  streets  must  be  properly  swept,  and  if  I  can 
sweep  them  as  well  as  Mr.  Dodd's  men,  for  I  know  one  of  them 
very  well,  why  should  I  have  only  Is.  \\d.  a  week  and  three 
loaves,  and  he  have  165.,  I  think  it  is.  I  don't  drink,  my  wife 
knows  I  don't,  [the  wife  assented,]  and  it  seems  as  if  in  a  parish  a 
man  must  be  kept  down  when  he  is  down,  and  then  blamed  for  it. 
I  may  not  understand  all  about  it,  but  it  looks  queer.'" 

The  third  system  of  parish  work,  where  the  labourer 
is  employed  regularly,  and  paid  a  certain  sum  out  of  the 
parochial  fund,  is  superior  to  either  of  the  other  modes ; 
but  still,  the  labourers  are  very  scantily  paid,  subjected 
to  a  great  deal  of  tyranny  by  brutal  officers,  and  mise- 
rably provided.  They  endure  the  severest  toil  for  a 
wretched  pittance,  without  being  able  to  choose  their 
masters  or  their  employment.  No  slaves  could  be  more 
completely  at  the  mercy  of  their  masters. 


OF   ENGLAND.  225 

The  common  practice  of  apprenticing  children  born 
and  reared  in  workhouses,  to  masters  who  may  feed, 
clothe,  and  beat  them  as  they  please,  is  touchingly  illus- 
trated in  Dickens's  famous  story  of  Oliver  Twist.  After 
Oliver  had  been  subjected  for  some  time  to  the  tender 
mercies  of  guardians  and  overseers  in  the  workhouse,  it 
was  advertised  that  any  person  wanting  an  apprentice 
could  obtain  him,  and  five  pounds  as  a  premium.  He  nar- 
rowly escaped  being  apprenticed  to  a  sweep,  and  finally 
fell  into  the  hands  of  Mr.  Sowerberry,  an  undertaker. 
In  the  house  of  that  dismal  personage,  he  was  fed  upon 
cold  bits,  badly  clothed,  knocked  about  unmercifully, 
and  worked  with  great  severity.  Such  is  the  common 
fate  of  parish  apprentices ;  and  we  do  not  think  a  more 
truthful  conception  of  the  beauties  of  the  system  could 
be  conveyed  than  by  quoting  from  the  experience  of 
Dickens's  workhouse  boy : — 

"Oliver  had  not  been  within  the  walls  of  the  workhouse  a  quar- 
•  ter  of  an  hour,  and  had  scarcely  completed  the  demolition  of  a 
second  slice  of  bread,  when  Mr.  Bumble,  who  had  handed  him 
over  to  the  care  of  an  old  woman,  returned,  and,  telling  him  it  was 
a  board  night,  informed  him  that  the  board  had  said  he  was  to 
appear  before  it  forthwith. 

"  Not  having  a  very  clearly  defined  notion  what  a  live  board 
was,  Oliver  was  rather  astounded  by  this  intelligence,  and  was  not 
quite  certain  whether  he  ought  to  laugh  or  cry.  He  had  no  time 
to  think  about  the  matter,  however ;  for  Mr.  Bumble  gave  him  a 
tap  on  the  head  with  his  cane  to  wake  him  up,  and  another  on  his 
back  to  make  him  lively,  and,  bidding  him  follow,  conducted  him 
into  a  large  whitewashed  room,  where  eight  or  ten  fat  gentlemen 
were  sitting  round  a  table,  at  the  top  of  which,  seated  in  an  arm- 


226  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

chair  rather  higher  than  the  rest,  was  a  particularly  fat  gentle- 
man with  a  very  round,  red  face. 

"  l  Bow  to  the  board,'  said  Bumble.  Oliver  brushed  away  two 
or  three  tears  that  were  lingering  in  his  eyes,  and  seeing  no  board 
but  the  table,  fortunately  bowed  to  that. 

"  '  What's  your  name,  boy  ?'  said  the  gentleman  in  the  high  chair. 

"  Oliver  was  frightened  at  the  sight  of  so  many  gentlemen,  which 
made  him  tremble:  and  the  beadle  gave  him  another  tap  behind, 
which  made  him  cry ;  and  these  two  causes  made  him  answer  in  a 
very  low  and  hesitating  voice ;  whereupon  a  gentleman  in  a  white 
waistcoat  said  he  was  a  fool,  which  was  a  capital  way  of  raising 
his  spirit,  and  putting  him  quite  at  his  ease. 

"  *  Boy/  said  the  gentleman  in  the  high  chair  :  '  listen  to  me. 
You  know  you're  an  orphan,  I  suppose  ?" 

"  *  What's  that,  sir  ?"  inquired  poor  Oliver. 

"  *  The  boy  is  a  fool — I  thought  he  was/  said  the  gentleman  in 
the  white  waistcoat  in  a  very  decided  tone.  If  one  member  of  a 
class  be  blessed  with  an  intuitive  perception  of  others  of  the  same 
race,  the  gentleman  in  the  white  waistcoat  was  unquestionably 
well  qualified  to  pronounce  an  opinion  on  the  matter. 

"  *  Hush !'  said  the  gentleman  who  had  spoken  first.  *  You 
know  you've  got  no  father  or  mother,  and  that  you  are  brought  up 
by  the  parish,  don't  you  ?' 

"  '  Yes,  sir/  replied  Oliver,  weeping  bitterly. 

"  '  What  are  you  crying  for  ?'  inquired  the  gentleman  in  the 
white  waistcoat ;  and  to  be  sure  it  was  very  extraordinary.  What 
could  he  be  crying  for  ? 

"  '  I  hope  you  say  your  prayers  every  night/  said  another  gen- 
tleman in  a  gruff  voice,  *  and  pray  for  the  people  who  feed  you, 
and  take  care  of  you,  like  a  Christian/ 

" '  Yes,  sir/  stammered  the  boy.  The  gentleman  who  spoke 
last  was  unconsciously  right.  It  would  have  been  very  like  a 
Christian,  and  a  marvellously  good  Christian,  too,  if  Oliver  had 
prayed  for  the  people  who  fed  and  took  care  of  him.  But  he 
hadn't,  because  nobody  had  taught  him. 

"  '  Well  you  have  come  here  to  be  educated,  and  taught  a  useful 
trade/  said  the  red-faced  gentleman  in  the  high  chair. 


OF   ENGLAND.  227 

" '  So  you'll  begin  to  pick  oakum  to-morrow  morning  at  six 
o'clock/  added  the  surly  one  in  the  white  waistcoat. 

"  For  the  combination  of  both  these  blessings  in  the  one  simple 
process  of  picking  oakum,  Oliver  bowed  low  by  the  direction  of 
the  beadle,  and  was  then  hurried  away  to  a  large  ward,  where,  on 
a  rough  hard  bed,  he  sobbed  himself  to  sleep.  What  a  noble 
illustration  of  the  tender  laws  of  this  favoured  country !  they  let 
the  paupers  go  to  sleep ! 

"  Poor  Oliver !  he  little  thought,  as  he  lay  sleeping  in  happy 
unconsciousness  of  all  around  him,  that  the  board  had  that  very 
day  arrived  at  a  decision  which  would  exercise  the  most  material 
influence  over  all  his  future  fortunes.  But  they  had.  And  this 
was  it : — 

"  The  members  of  this  board  were  very  sage,  deep,  philosophical 
men ;  and  when  they  came  to  turn  their  attention  to  the  work- 
house, they  found  out  at  once,  what  ordinary  folks  would  never 
have  discovered, — the  poor  people  liked  it !  It  was  a  regular 
place  of  public  entertainment  for  the  poorer  classes, — a  tavern 
where  there  was  nothing  to  pay, — a  public  breakfast,  dinner,  tea, 
and  supper,  all  the  year  round, — a  brick  and  mortar  elysium, 
where  it  was  all  play  and  no  work.  '  Oho !'  said  the  board,  looking 
very  knowing ;  '  we  are  the  fellows  to  set  this  to  rights  ;  we'll  stop 
it  all  in  no  time/  So  they  established  the  rule,  that  all  poor  peo- 
ple should  have  the  alternative  (for  they  would  compel  nobody, 
not  they,)  of  being  starved  by  a  gradual  process  in  the  house,  or 
by  a  quick  one  out  of  it.  With  this  view,  they  contracted  with 
the  water-works  to  lay  on  an  unlimited  supply  of  water,  and  with 
a  corn-factor  to  supply  periodically  small  quantities  of  oat-meal : 
and  issued  three  meals  of  thin  gruel  a-day,  with  an  onion  twice  a 
week,  and  half  a  roll  on  Sundays.  They  made  a  great  many  other 
wise  and  humane  regulations  having  reference  to  the  ladies,  which 
it  is  not  necessary  to  repeat ;  kindly  undertook  to  divorce  poor 
married  people,  in  consequence  of  the  great  expense  of  a  suit  in 
Doctors'  Commons  ;  and,  instead  of  compelling  a  man  to  support 
his  family,  as  they  had  theretofore  done,  took  his  family  away 
from  him,  and  made  him  a  bachelor !  There  is  no  telling  how 
many  applicants  for  relief  under  these  last  two  heads  would  not 


228  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

have  started  up  in  all  classes  of  society,  if  it  had  not  been  coupled 
•with  the  workhouse.  But  they  were  long-headed  men,  and  they 
had  provided  for  this  difficulty.  The  relief  was  inseparable  from 
the  workhouse  and  the  gruel ;  and  that  frightened  people. 

"  For  the  first  three  months  after  Oliver  Twist  was  removed,  the 
system  was  in  full  operation.  It  was  rather  expensive  at  first,  in 
consequence  of  the  increase  in  the  undertaker's  bill,  and  the  neces- 
sity of  taking  in  the  clothes  of  all  the  paupers,  which  fluttered 
loosely  on  their  wasted,  shrunken  forms,  after  a  week  or  two's 
gruel.  But  the  number  of  workhouse  inmates  got  thin,  as  well  as 
the  paupers ;  and  the  board  were  in  ecstasies.  The  room  in  which 
the  boys  were  fed  was  a  large  stone  hall,  with  a  copper  at  one  end, 
out  of  which  the  master,  dressed  in  an  apron  for  the  purpose,  and 
assisted  by  one  or  two  women,  ladled  the  gruel  at  meal-times ;  of 
which  composition  each  boy  had  one  porringer,  and  no  more, — 
except  on  festive  occasions,  and  then  he  had  two  ounces  and  a 
quarter  of  bread  besides.  The  bowls  never  wanted  washing — the 
boys  polished  them  with  their  spoons,  till  they  shone  again ;  and 
when  they  had  performed  this  operation,  (which  never  took  very 
long,  the  spoons  being  nearly  as  large  as  the  bowls,)  they  would 
sit  staring  at  the  copper  with  such  eager  eyes,  as  if  they  could  de- 
vour the  very  bricks  of  which  it  was  composed ;  employing  them- 
selves meanwhile  in  sucking  their  fingers  most  assiduously,  with 
the  view  of  catching  up  any  stray  splashes  of  gruel  that  might  have 
been  cast  thereon.  Boys  have  generally  excellent  appetites :"  Oliver 
Twist  and  his  companions  suffered  the  tortures  of  slow  starvation 
for  three  months  ;  at  last  they  got  so  voracious  and  wild  with  hun- 
ger, that  one  boy,  who  was  tall  for  his  age,  and  hadn't  been  used 
to  that  sort  of  thing,  (for  his  father  had  kept  a  small  cook's  shop,) 
hinted  darkly  to  his  companions,  that  unless  he  had  another  basin 
of  gruel  per  diem,  he  was  afraid  he  should  some  night  eat  the  boy 
who  slept  next  him,  who  happened  to  be  a  weakly  youth  of  tender 
age.  He  had  a  wild,  hungry  eye,  and  they  implicitly  believed  him. 
A  council  was  held ;  lots  were  cast  who  should  walk  up  to  the  mas- 
ter after  supper  that  evening,  and  ask  for  more ;  and  it  fell  to 
Oliver  Twist. 

The  evening  arrived :  the  boys  took  their  places ;  the  master,  in 


OF  ENGLAND.  229 

his  cook's  uniform,  stationed  himself  at  the  copper ;  his  pauper 
assistants  ranged  themselves  behind  him  ;  the  gruel  was  served 
out,  and  a  long  grace  was  said  over  the  short  commons.  The  gruel 
disappeared,  and  the  boys  whispered  to  each  other  and  winked  at 
Oliver,  while  his  next  neighbours  nudged  him.  Child  as  he  was, 
he  was  desperate  with  hunger,  and  reckless  with  misery.  He  rose 
from  the  table,  and,  advancing,  basin  and  spoon  in  hand,  to  the 
master,  said,  somewhat  alarmed  at  his  own  temerity — 

"  '  Please,  sir,  I  want  some  more/ 

"  The  master  was  a  fat,  healthy  man,  but  he  turned  very  pale. 
He  gazed  in  stupefied  astonishment  on  the  small  rebel  for  some 
seconds,  and  then  clung  for  support  to  the  copper.  The  assistants 
were  paralyzed  with  wonder,  and  the  boys  with  fear. 

"  '  What !'  said  the  master  at  length,  in  a  faint  ^oice. 

"  '  Please,  sir/  replied  Oliver,  '  I  want  some  mo/e/ 

"  The  master  aimed  a  blow  at  Oliver's  head  with  the  ladle, 
pinioned  him  in  his  arms,  and  shrieked  aloud  for  the  beadle. 

"  The  board  were  sitting  in  solemn  conclave,  when  Mr.  Bumble 
rushed  into  the  room  in  great  excitement,  and  addressing  the 
gentleman  in  the  high  chair,  said — 

"  '  Mr.  Limbkins,  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir ; — Oliver  Twist  has 
asked  for  more/  There  was  a  general  start.  Horror  was  de- 
picted on  every  countenance. 

"  '  For  more  !'  said  Mr.  Limbkins.  '  Compose  yourself,  Bumble, 
and  answer  me  distinctly.  Do  I  understand  that  he  asked  for 
more,  after  he  had  eaten  the  supper  allotted  by  the  dietary  ?' 

"  *  He  did,  sir/  replied  Bumble. 

"  *  That  boy  will  be  hung/  said  the  gentleman  in  the  white 
•waistcoat ;  *  I  know  that  boy  will  be  hung/ 

"  Nobody  controverted  the  prophetic  gentleman's  opinion.  An 
animated  discussion  took  place.  Oliver  was  ordered  into  instant 
confinement ;  and  a  bill  was  next  morning  pasted  on  the  outside 
of  the  gate,  offering  a  reward  of  five  pounds  to  anybody  who 
would  take  Oliver  Twist  off  the  hands  of  the  parish ;  in  other 
words,  five  pounds  and  Oliver  Twist  were  offered  to  any  man  or 
woman  who  wanted  an  apprentice  to  any  trade,  business,  or 
calling. 

K 


230  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

" '  I  never  was  more  convinced  of  any  thing  in  my  life/  said 
the  gentleman  in  the  white  waistcoat,  as  he  knocked  at  the  gate 
and  read  the  bill  next  morning, — '  I  never  was  more  convinced 
of  any  thing  in  my  Kfe,  than  I  am  that  that  boy  will  come  to  be 
hung/ 

"  For  a  week  after  the  commission  of  the  impious  and  profane 
offence  of  asking  for  more,  Oliver  remained  a  close  prisoner  in> 
the  dark  and  solitary  room  to  which  he  had  been  consigned  by 
the  wisdom  and  mercy  of  the  board.  It  appears,  at  first  sight, 
not  unreasonable  to  suppose,  that,  if  he  had  entertained  a  be- 
coming feeling  of  respect  for  the  prediction  of  the  gentleman  in 
the  white  waistcoat,  he  would  have  established  that  sage  indi- 
vidual^ prophetic  character,  once  and  for  ever,  by  tying  one  end 
of  his  pocket-handkerchief  to  a  hook  in  the  wall,  and  attaching 
himself  to  the  other.  To  the  performance  of  this  feat,  however, 
there  was  one  obstacle,  namely,  that  pocket-handkerchiefs  being 
decided  articles  of  luxury,  had  been,  for  all  future  times  and 
ages,  removed  from  the  noses  of  paupers  by  the  express  order  of 
the  board  in  council  assembled,  solemnly  given  and  pronounced 
under  their  hands  and  seals.  There  was  a  still  greater  obstacle 
in  Oliver's  youth  and  childishness.  He  only  cried  bitterly  all 
day ;  and  when  the  long,  dismal  night  came  on,  he  spread  his 
little  hands  before  his  eyes  to  shut  out  the  darkness,  and  crouch- 
ing in  the  corner,  tried  to  sleep,  ever  and  anon  waking  with  a 
start  and  tremble,  and  drawing  himself  closer  and  closer  to  the 
wall,  as  if  to  feel  even  its  cold  hard  surface  were  a  protection  in 
the  gloom  and  loneliness  which  surrounded  him. 

"  Let  it  not  be  supposed  by  the  enemies  of  '  the  system/  that, 
during  the  period  of  his  solitary  incarceration,  Oliver  was  denied 
the  benefit  of  exercise,  the  pleasure  of  society,  or  the  advantages 
of  religious  consolation.  As  for  exercise,  it  was  nice  cold  wea- 
ther, and  he  was  allowed  to  perform  his  ablutions  every  morning 
under  the  pump,  in  a  stone  yard,  in  the  presence  of  Mr.  Bumble, 
who  prevented  his  catching  cold,  and  caused  a  tingling  sensation 
to  pervade  his  frame,  by  repeated  applications  of  the  cane ;  as  for 
society,  he  was  carried  every  other  day  into  the  hall  where  the 
"boys  dined,  and  there  sociably  flogged,  as  a  public  warning  and 


OF   ENGLAND.  231 

example;  and,  so  far  from  being  denied  the  advantages  of  re- 
ligious consolation,  he  was  kicked  into  the  same  apartment  every 
evening  at  prayer-time,  and  there  permitted  to  listen  to,  and  con- 
sole his  mind  with,  a  general  supplication  of  the  boys,  containing 
a  special  clause  therein  inserted  by  the  authority  of  the  board,  in 
which  they  entreated  to  be  made  good,  virtuous,  contented,  and 
obedient,  and  to  be  guarded  from  the  sins  and  vices  of  Oliver 
Twist,  whom  the  supplication  distinctly  set  forth  to  be  under  the 
exclusive  patronage  and  protection  of  the  powers  of  wickedness, 
and  an  article  direct  from  the  manufactory  of  the  devil  him- 
self. 

"  It  chanced  one  morning,  while  Oliver's  affairs  were  in  this 
auspicious  and  comfortable  state,  that  Mr.  Gamfield,  chimney- 
sweeper, was  wending  his  way  adown  the  High-street,  deeply 
cogitating  in  his  mind  his  ways  and  means  of  paying  certain 
arrears  of  rent,  for  which  his  landlord  had  become  rather  press- 
ing. Mr.  Gamfield's  most  sanguine  calculation  of  funds  could 
not  raise  them  within  full  five  pounds  of  the  desired  amount ; 
and,  in  a  species  of  arithmetical  desperation,  he  was  alternately 
cudgelling  his  brains  and  his  donkey,  when,  passing  the  work- 
house, his  eyes  encountered  the  bill  on  the  gate. 

"  '  Woo  !'  said  Mr.  Gamfield  to  the  donkey. 

"  The  donkey  was  in  a  state  of  profound  abstraction — wonder- 
ing, probably,  whether  he  was  destined  to  be  regaled  with  a  cab- 
bage-stalk or  two,  when  he  had  disposed  of  the  two  sacks  of  soot 
with  which  the  little  cart  was  laden ;  so,  without  noticing  the 
word  of  command,  he  jogged  onward. 

"Mr.  Gamfield  growled  a  fierce  imprecation  on  the  donkey 
generally,  but  more  particularly  on  his  eyes ;  and  running  after 
him,  bestowed  a  blow  on  his  head  which  would  inevitably  have 
beaten  in  any  skull  but  a  donkey's ;  then,  catching  hold  of  the 
bridle,  he  gave  his  jaw  a  sharp  wrench,  by  way  of  gentle  re- 
minder that  he  was  not  his  own  master ;  and,  having  by  these 
means  turned  him  round,  he  gave  him  another  blow  on  the  head, 
just  to  stun  him  until  he  came  back  again ;  and,  having  done  so, 
walked  to  the  gate  to  read  the  bill. 

"The  gentleman  with  the  white  waistcoat  was  standing  at  the 


232  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

gate  with  his  hands  behind  him,  after  having  delivered  himself 
of  some  profound  sentiments  in  the  board-room.  Having  wit- 
nessed the  little  dispute  between  Mr.  Gamfield  and  the  donkey,  he 
smiled  joyously  when  that  person  came  up  to  read  the  bill,  for  he 
saw  at  once  that  Mr.  Gamfield  was  just  exactly  the  sort  of  master 
Oliver  Twist  wanted.  Mr.  Gamfield  smiled,  too,  as  he  perused  the 
document,  for  five  pounds  was  just  the  sum  he  had  been  wishing 
for ;  and,  as  to  the  boy  with  which  it  was  encumbered,  Mr.  Gam- 
field,  knowing  what  the  dietary  of  the  workhouse  was,  well  knew 
he  would  be  a  nice  small  pattern,  just  the  very  thing  for  register 
stoves.  So  he  spelt  the  bill  through  again,  from  beginning  to 
end ;  and  then,  touching  his  fur  cap  in  token  of  humility,  ac- 
costed the  gentleman  in  the  white  waistcoat. 

" t  This  here  boy,  sir,  wot  the  parish  wants  to  'prentis/  said  Mr. 
Gamfield. 

" '  Yes,  my  man/  said  the  gentleman  in  the  white  waistcoat, 
with  a  condescending  smile,  *  what  of  him  ¥ 

"  '  If  the  parish  vould  like  him  to  learn  a  light,  pleasant  trade, 
in  a  good  'spectable  chimbley-sweepin  bisness/  said  Mr.  Gam- 
field,  '  I  wants  a  'prentis,  and  I'm  ready  to  take  him/ 

" '  Walk  in/  said  the  gentleman  with  the  white  waistcoat. 
And  Mr.  Gamfield  having  lingered  behind,  to  give  the  donkey 
another  blow  on  the  head,  and  another  wrench  of  the  jaw,  as  a 
caution  not  to  run  away  in  his  absence,  followed  the  gentleman 
in  the  white  waistcoat  into  the  room  where  Oliver  had  first  seen 
him. 

"  '  It's  a  nasty  trade/  said  Mr.  Limbkins,  when  Gamfield  had 
again  stated  his  case. 

"  *  Young  boys  have  been  smothered  in  cliirneys,  before  now/ 
said  another  gentleman. 

"  *  That's  acause  they  damped  the  straw  afore  they  lit  it  in  the 
chimbley  to  make  'em  come  down  again/  said  Gamfield;  'that's 
all  smoke,  and  no  blaze ;  "vereas  smoke  a'n't  o'  no  use  at  all  in 
makin'  a  boy  come  down ;  it  only  sinds  him  to  sleep,  and  that's 
wot  he  likes.  Boys  is  wery  obstinit,  and  wery  lazy,  gen'lm'n, 
and  there's  nothink  like  a  good  hot  blaze  to  make  'em  come  down 
vith  a  run;  it's  humane,  too,  gen'lm'n,  acause,  even  if  they've 


OF   ENGLAND.  233 

stuck  in  the  chimbley,  roastin'  their  feet  makes  'em  struggle  to 
hextricate  theirselves.' 

"  The  gentleman  in  the  white  waistcoat  appeared  very  much 
amused  with  this  explanation ;  but  his  mirth  was  speedily  checked 
by  a  look  from  Mr.  Limbkins.  The  board  then  proceeded  to  con- 
verse among  themselves  for  a  few  minutes,  but  in  so  low  a  tone 
that  the  words,  '  saving  of  expenditure/  '  look  well  in  the  ac- 
counts/ '  have  a  printed  report  published/  were  alone  audible ; 
and  they  only  chanced  to  be  heard  on  account  of  their  being  very 
frequently  repeated  with  great  emphasis. 

"  At  length  the  whispering  ceased,  and  the  members  of  the 
board  having  resumed  their  seats  and  their  solemnity,  Mr.  Limb- 
kins  said, 

"  *  We  have  considered  your  proposition,  and  we  don't  approve 
of  it/ 

" '  Not  at  all/  said  the  gentleman  in  the  white  waistcoat. 

"  '  Decidedly  not/  added  the  other  members. 

"  As  Mr.  Gamfield  did  happen  to  labour  under  the  slight  im- 
putation of  having  bruised  three  or  four  boys  to  death  already,  it 
occurred  to  him  that  the  board  had  perhaps,  in  some  unaccount- 
able freak,  taken  it  into  their  heads  that  this  extraneous  circum- 
stance ought  to  influence  their  proceedings.  It  was  very  unlike 
their  general  mode  of  doing  business,  if  they  had  ;  but  still,  as 
he  had  no  particular  wish  to  revive  the  rumour,  he  twisted  his 
cap  in  his  hands,  and  walked  slowly  from  the  table. 

"  *  So  you  won't  let  me  have  him,  gen'lmen/  said  Mr.  Gamfield, 
pausing  near  the  door. 

"  *  No/  replied  Mr.  Limbkins ;  '  at  least,  as  it's  a  nasty  busi- 
ness, we  think  you  ought  to  take  something  less  than  the  pre- 
mium we  offered.' 

"  Mr.  Gamfield's  countenance  brightened,  as  with  a  quick  step 
lie  returned  to  the  table,  and  said, 

"  '  What'll  you  give,  gen'lmen  ?  Come,  don't  be  too  hard  on  a 
poor  man.  What' 11  you  give  ?' 

" '  I  should  say  three  pound  ten  was  plenty/  said  Mr.  Limb- 
kins, 

16 


234  THE    WHITE   SLAVES 

"  *  Ten  shillings  too  much/  said  the  gentleman  in  the  white 
waistcoat. 

"  '  Come/  said  Gamfield,  '  say  four  pound,  gen'lmen.  Say 
four  pound,  and  you've  got  rid  of  him  for  good  and  all.  There  1' 

"  '  Three  pound  ten/  repeated  Mr.  Limbkins,  firmly. 

" '  Come,  I'll  split  the  difference,  gen'lmen/  urged  Gamfield. 
'  Three  pound  fifteen/ 

"  '  Not  a  farthing  more/  was  the  firm  reply  of  Mr.  Limbkins. 

"  *  You're  desperate  hard  upon  me,  gen'lmen/  said  Gamfield, 
wavering. 

"  '  Pooh !  pooh !  nonsense !'  said  the  gentleman  in  the  white 
waiscoat.  'He'd  be  cheap  with  nothing  at  all  as  a  premium. 
Take  him,  you  silly  fellow!  He's  just  the  boy  for  you.  He 
wants  the  stick  now  and  then ;  it'll  do  him  good ;  and  his  board 
needn't  come  very  expensive,  for  he  hasn't  been  overfed  since  he 
was  born.  Ha !  ha !  ha  P 

"  Mr.  Gamfield  gave  an  arch  look  at  the  faces  round  the  table, 
and,  observing  a  smile  on  all  of  them,  gradually  broke  into  a 
smile  himself.  The  bargain  was  made,  and  Mr.  Bumble  was  at 
once  instructed  that  Oliver  Twist  and  his  indentures  were  to  be 
conveyed  before  the  magistrate  for  signature  and  approval,  that 
very  afternoon. 

"  In  pursuance  of  this  determination,  little  Oliver,  to  his  exces- 
sive astonishment,  was  released  from  bondage,  and  ordered  to  put 
himself  into  a  clean  shirt.  He  had  hardly  achieved  this  very  un- 
usual gymnastic  performance,  when  Mr.  Bumble  brought  him 
with  his  own  hands,  a  basin  of  gruel,  and  the  holiday  allowance 
of  two  ounces  and  a  quarter  of  bread ;  at  sight  of  which  Oliver 
began  to  cry  very  piteously,  thinking,  not  unnaturally,  that  the 
board  must  have  determined  to  kill  him  for  some  useful  purpose,  \ 
or  they  never  would  have  begun  to  fatten  him  up  in  this  way. 

"  *  Don't  make  your  eyes  red,  Oliver,  but  eat  your  food,  and  be  * 
thankful/  said  Mr.  Bumble,  in  a  tone  of  impressive  pomposity,  j 
(  You're  a-going  to  be  made  a  'prentice  of,  Oliver.' 

"  *  A  'prentice,  sir  1'  said  the  child,  trembling. 

" '  Yes,  Oliver/  said  Mr.  Bumble.  '  The  kind  and  blessed  gen- 
tlemen which  is  so  many  parents  to  you,  Oliver,  when  you  have 


OF   ENGLAND.  235 

none  of  your  own,  are  a-going  to  'prentice  you,  and  to  set  you  up 
in  life,  and  make  a  man  of  you,  although  the  expense  to  the 
parish  is  three  pound  ten! — three  pound  ten,  Oliver! — seventy 
shillings ! — one  hundred  and  forty  sixpences ! — and  all  for  a 
naughty  orphan  which  nobody  can  love/ 

"  As  Mr.  Bumble  paused  to  take  breath  after  delivering  this 
address,  in  an  awful  voice,  the  tears  rolled  down  the  poor  child's 
face,  and  he  sobbed  bitterly. 

" '  Come/  said  Mr.  Bumble,  somewhat  less  pompously ;  for  it 
was  gratifying  to  his  feelings  to  observe  the  effect  his  eloquence 
had  produced.  '  Come,  Oliver,  wipe  your  eyes  with  the  cuffs  of 
your  jacket,  and  don't  cry  into  your  gruel ;  that's  a  very  foolish 
action,  Oliver/  It  certainly  was,  for  there  was  quite  enough 
water  in  it  already. 

"  On  their  way  to  the  magistrate's,  Mr.  Bumble  instructed 
Oliver  that  all  he  would  have  to  do  would  be  to  look  very  happy, 
and  say,  when  the  gentleman  asked  him  if  he  wanted  to  be  ap- 
prenticed, that  he  should  like  it  very  much  indeed;  both  of 
which  injunctions  Oliver  promised  to  obey,  the  more  readily  as 
Mr.  Bumble  threw  in  a  gentle  hint,  that  if  he  failed  in  either  par- 
ticular, there  was  no  telling  what  would  be  done  to  him.  "When 
ihey  arrived  at  the  office  he  was  shut  up  in  a  little  room  by  him- 
self, and  admonished  by  Mr.  Bumble  to  stay  there  until  he  came 
)ack  to  fetch  him. 

"  There  the  boy  remained  with  a  palpitating  heart  for  half  an 
lour,  at  the  expiration  of  which  time  Mr.  Bumble  thrust  in  his 
lead,  unadorned  with  the  cocked  hat,  and  said  aloud, 

"'Now,  Oliver,  my  dear,  come  to  the  gentleman/  As  Mr. 
Bumble  said  this,  he  put  on  a  grim  and  threatening  look,  and 
added  in  a  low  voice,  *  Mind  what  I  told  you,  you  young  rascal/ 

"  Oliver  stared  innocently  in  Mr.  Bumble's  face  at  this  some- 
what contradictory  style  of  address;  but  that  gentleman  pre- 
vented his  offering  any  remark  thereupon,  by  leading  him  at  once 
into  an  adjoining  room,  the  door  of  which  was  open.  It  was  a 
large  room  with  a  great  window ;  and  behind  a  desk  sat  two  old 
gentlemen  with  powdered  heads,  one  of  whom  was  reading  the 
newspaper,  while  the  other  was  perusing,  with  the  aid  of  a  pair 


236  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

of  tortoise-shell  spectacles,  a  small  piece  of  parchment  which  lay 
before  him.  Mr.  Limbkins  was  standing  in  front  of  the  desk,  on 
one  side  ;  and  Mr.  Gamfield,  with  a  partially  washed  face,  on  the 
other;  while  two  or  three  bluff-looking  men  in  top-boots  were 
lounging  about. 

"  The  old  gentleman  with  the  spectacles  gradually  dozed  off, 
over  the  little  bit  of  parchment ;  and  there  was  a  short  pause 
after  Oliver  had  been  stationed  by  Mr.  Bumble  in  front  of  the 
desk. 

" '  This  is  the  boy,  your  worship/  said  Mr.  Bumble. 

"  The  old  gentleman  who  was  reading  the  newspaper  raised 
his  head  for  a  moment,  and  pulled  the  other  old  gentleman  by 
the  sleeve,  whereupon  the  last-mentioned  old  gentleman  woke  up. 

"  *  Oh,  is  this  the  boy  ?'  said  the  old  gentleman. 

"  *  This  is  him,  sir/  replied  Mr.  Bumble.  '  Bow  to  the  magis- 
trate, my  dear/ 

"  Oliver  roused  himself,  and  made  his  best  obeisance.  He  had 
been  wondering,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  magistrate's  powder, 
whether  all  boards  were  born  with  that  white  stuff  on  their 
heads,  and  were  boards  from  thenceforth,  on  that  account. 

"  *  Well/  said  the  old  gentleman,  *  I  suppose  he's  fond  of  chim- 
ney-sweeping ?' 

"  *  He  dotes  on  it,  your  worship/  replied  Bumble,  giving  Oliver 
a  sly  pinch,  to  intimate  that  he  had  better  not  say  he  didn't. 

"  *  And  he  will  be  a  sweep,  will  he?'  inquired  the  old  gentle- 
man. 

" '  If  we  was  to  bind  him  to  any  other  trade  to-morrow,  he'd 
run  away  simultaneously,  your  worship/  replied  Bumble. 

" '  And  this  man  that's  to  be  his  master, — you,  sir, — you'll 
treat  him  well,  and  feed  him,  and  do  all  that  sort  of  thing, — will 
you  ?'  said  the  old  gentleman. 

"  *  When  I  says  I  will,  I  means  I  will/  replied  Mr.  Gamfield, 
doggedly. 

"  '  You're  a  rough  speaker,  my  friend,  but  you  look  an  honest,  ' 
open-hearted  man/  said  the  old  gentleman,  turning  his  spectacles 
in  the  direction  of  the  candidate  for  Oliver's  premium,  whose 
villanoua  countenance  was  a  regular  stamped  receipt  for  cruelty. 


OF   ENGLAND.  237 

But  the  magistrate  was  half  blind,  and  half  childish,  so  he 
couldn't  reasonably  be  expected  to  discern  what  other  people  did. 

"  *  I  hope  I  am,  sir/  said  Mr.  Gamfield  with  an  ugly  leer. 

"  *  I  have  no  doubt  you  are,  my  friend/  replied  the  old  gentle- 
man, fixing  his  spectacles  more  firmly  on  his  nose,  and  looking 
about  him  for  the  inkstand. 

"  It  was  the  critical  moment  of  Oliver's  fate.  If  the  inkstand 
had  been  where  the  old  gentleman  thought  it  was,  he  woul'd  have 
dipped  his  pen  into  it  and  signed  the  indentures,  and  Oliver 
would  have  been  straightway  hurried  off.  But,  as  it  chanced  to 
be  immediately  under  his  nose,  it  followed  as  a  matter  of  course, 
that  he  looked  all  over  his  desk  for  it,  without  finding  it ;  and 
happening  in  the  course  of  his  search  to  look  straight  before  him, 
his  gaze  encountered  the  pale  and  terrified  face  of  Oliver  Twist, 
who,  despite  of  all  the  admonitory  looks  and  pinches  of  Bumble, 
was  regarding  the  very  repulsive  countenance  of  his  future  mas- 
ter with  a  mingled  expression  of  horror  and  fear,  too  palpable  to 
be  mistaken  even  by  a  half-blind  magistrate. 

"  The  old  gentleman  stopped,  laid  down  his  pen,  and  looked 
from  Oliver  to  Mr.  Limbkins,  who  attempted  to  take  snuff  with  a 
cheerful  and  unconcerned  aspect. 

"  *  My  boy/  said  the  old  gentleman,  leaning  over  the  desk. 
Oliver  started  at  the  sound, — he  might  be  excused  for  doing  so, 
for  the  words  were  kindly  said,  and  strange  sounds  frighten  one. 
He  trembled  violently,  and  burst  into  tears. 

"  *  My  boy/  said  the  old  gentleman,  '  you  look  pale  and 
alarmed.  What  is  the  matter  V 

"  '  Stand  a  little  away  from  him,  beadle/  said  the  other  magis- 
trate, laying  aside  the  paper  and  leaning  forward  with  an  expres- 
sion of  some  interest.  *  Now,  boy,  tell  us  what's  the  matter; 
don't  be  afraid/ 

"  Oliver  fell  on  his  knees,  and,  clasping  his  hands  together, 
prayed  that  they  would  order  him  back  to  the  dark  room — that 
they  would  starve  him — beat  him — kill  him  if  they  pleased,  rather 
than  send  him  away  with  that  dreadful  man. 

"  *  Well !'  said  Mr.  Bumble,  raising  his  hands  and  eyes  with 
most  impressive  solemnity — *  Well !  of  all  the  artful  and  design- 
K* 


238  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

ing  orphans  that  ever  I  see,  Oliver,  you  are  one  of  the  most  bare- 
facedest/ 

"  *  Hold  your  tongue,  beadle/  said  the  second  old  gentleman, 
when  Mr.  Bumble  had  given  vent  to  this  compound  adjective. 

"  '  I  beg  your  worship's  pardon/  said  Mr.  Bumble,  incredulous 
of  his  having  heard  aright — *  did  your  worship  speak  to  me?' 

"  'Yes — hold  your  tongue/ 

"  Mr.  Bumble  was  stupefied  with  astonishment.  A  beadle 
ordered  to  hold  his  tongue !  A  moral  revolution. 

"  The  old  gentleman  in  the  tortoise-shell  spectacles  looked  at 
his  companion ;  he  nodded  significantly. 

"  '  We  refuse  to  sanction  these  indentures/  said  the  old  gentle- 
man, tossing  aside  the  piece  of  parchment  as  he  spoke. 

"  '  I  hope/  stammered  Mr.  Limbkins — '  I  hope  the  magistrates 
will  not  form  the  opinion  that  the  authorities  have  been  guilty 
of  any  improper  conduct,  on  the  unsupported  testimony  of  a  mere 
child.' 

"  '  The  magistrates  are  not  called  upon  to  pronounce  any  opi- 
nion on  the  matter/  said  the  second  old  gentleman,  sharply.  *  Take 
the  boy  back  to  the  workhouse  and  treat  him  kindly;  he  seems 
to  want  it/ 

"  That  same  evening  the  gentleman  in  the  white  waistcoat  most 
positively  and  decidedly  affirmed,  not  only  that  Oliver  would  be 
hung,  but  that  he  would  be  drawn  and  quartered  into  the  bar- 
gain. Mr.  Bumble  shook  his  head  with  gloomy  mystery,  and  said 
he  wished  he  might  come  to  good:  to  which  Mr.  Gamfield  replied 
that  he  wished  he  might  come  to  him,  which,  although  he  agreed 
with  the  beadle  in  most  matters,  would  seem  to  be  a  wish  of  a 
totally  opposite  description. 

"  The  next  morning  the  public  were  once  more  informed  that 
Oliver  Twist  was  again  to  let,  and  that  five  pounds  would  be  paid 
to  anybody  who  would  take  possession  of  him. 

"  In  great  families,  when  an  advantageous  place  cannot  be  ob- 
tained, either  in  possession,  reversion,  remainder,  or  expectancy, 
for  the  young  man  who  is  growing  up,  it  is  a  very  general  custom 
to  send  him  to  sea.  The  board,  in  imitation  of  so  wise  and  salu- 
tary an  example,  took  counsel  together  on  the  expediency  of  ship- 


OF   ENGLAND.  239 

ping  off  Oliver  Twist  in  some  small  trading-vessel  bound  to  a  good 
unhealthy  port,  which  suggested  itself  as  the  very  best  thing  that 
could  possibly  be  done  with  him;  the  probability  being  that  the 
skipper  would  either  flog  him  to  death  in  a  playful  mood,  some 
day  after  dinner,  or  knock  his  brains  out  with  an  iron  bar,  both 
pastimes  being,  as  is  pretty  generally  known,  very  favourite  and 
common  recreations  among  gentlemen  of  that  class.  The  more 
the  case  presented  itself  to  the  board  in  this  point  of  view,  the 
more  manifold  the  advantages  of  the  step  appeared ;  so  they  came 
to  the  conclusion  that  the  only  way  of  providing  for  Oliver  effec- 
tually, was  to  send  him  to  sea  without  delay. 

"  Mr.  Bumble  had  been  despatched  to  make  various  prelimi- 
nary inquiries,  with  the  view  of  finding  out  some  captain  or  other 
who  wanted  a  cabin-boy  without  any  friends ;  and  was  returning 
to  the  workhouse  to  communicate  the  result  of  his  mission,  when, 
he  encountered  just  at  the  gate  no  less  a  person  than  Mr.  Sower- 
berry,  the  parochial  undertaker. 

"  Mr.  Sowerberry  was  a  tall,  gaunt,  large-jointed  man,  attired 
in  a  suit  of  threadbare  black,  with  darned  cotton  stockings  of  the 
same  colour,  and  shoes  to  answer.  His  features  were  not  natu- 
rally intended  to  wear  a  smiling  aspect,  but  he  was  in  general 
rather  given  to  professional  jocosity;  his  step  was  elastic,  and  hia 
face  betokened  inward  pleasantry  as  he  advanced  to  Mr.  Bumble 
and  shook  him  cordially  by  the  hand. 

"  '  I  have  taken  the  measure  of  the  two  women  that  died  laet 
night,  Mr.  Bumble/  said  the  undertaker. 

"  '  You'll  make  your  fortune,  Mr.  Sowerberry/  said  the  beadle, 
as  he  thrust  his  thumb  and  forefinger  into  the  proffered  snuff-box 
of  the  undertaker,  which  was  an  ingenious  little  model  of  a  patent 
coffin.  *  I  say  you'll  make  your  fortune,  Mr.  Sowerberry/  re- 
peated Mr.  Bumble,  tapping  the  undertaker  on  the  shoulder  in  a 
friendly  manner  with  his  cane. 

"  l  Think  so?'  said  the  undertaker  in  a  tone  which  half  admitted 
and  half  disputed  the  probability  of  the  event.  *  The  prices  al- 
lowed by  the  board  are  very  small,  Mr.  Bumble/ 

"  { So  are  the  coffins/  replied  the  beadle,  with  precisely  as  near 
an  approach  to  a  laugh  as  a  great  official  ought  to  indulge  in. 


240  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

"  Mr.  Sowerberry  was  much  tickled  at  this,  as  of  course  he 
ought  to  be,  and  laughed  a  long  time  without  cessation.  *  Well, 
•well,  Mr.  Bumble/  he  said  at  length,  '  there's  no  denying  that, 
since  the  new  system  of  feeding  has  come  in,  the  coffins  are  some- 
thing narrower  and  more  shallow  than  they  used  to  be;  but  we 
must  have  some  profit,  Mr.  Bumble.  Well-seasoned  timber  is  an 
expensive  article,  sir;  and  ail  the  iron  handles  come  by  canal 
from  Birmingham.' 

"  '  Well,  well/  said  Mr.  Bumble,  *  every  trade  has  its  draw- 
backs, and  a  fair  pr  nt  is  of  course  allowable/ 

"  '  Of  course,  of  course/  replied  the  undertaker;  *  and  if  I  don't 
get  a  profit  upon  this  or  that  particular  article,  why  I  make  it  up 
in  the  long  run,  you  see — he  I  he !  he  I' 

"  '  Just  so/  said  Mr.  Bumble. 

"  '  Though  I  must  say/ — continued  the  undertaker,  resuming 
the  current  of  observations  which  the  beadle  had  interrupted, — 
'  though  I  must  say,  Mr.  Bumble,  that  I  have  to  contend  against 
one  very  great  disadvantage,  which  is,  that  all  the  stout  people 
go  off  the  quickest — I  mean  that  the  people  who  have  been  better 
off,  and  have  paid  rates  for  many  years,  are  the  first  to  sink  when 
they  come  into  the  house;  and  let  me  tell  you,  Mr.  Bumble,  that 
three  or  four  inches  over  one's  calculation  makes  a  great  hole  in 
one's  profits,  especially  when  one  has  a  family  to  provide  for,  sir/ 

"  As  Mr.  Sowerberry  said  this,  with  the  becoming  indignation 
of  an  ill-used  man,  and  as  Mr.  Bumble  felt  that  it  rather  tended 
to  convey  a  reflection  on  the  honour  of  the  parish,  the  latter  gen- 
tleman thought  it  advisable  to  change  the  subject;  and  Oliver 
Twist  being  uppermost  in  his  mind,  he  made  him  his  theme. 

"  *  By-the-by/  said  Mr.  Bumble,  '  you  don't  know  anybody  who 
wants  a  boy,  do  you — a  parochial  'prentis,  who  is  at  present  a 
dead-weight — a  millstone,  as  I  may  say — round  the  parochial 
throat  ?  Liberal  terms,  Mr.  Sowerberry — liberal  terms  /  and,  as 
Mr,  Bumble  spoke,  he  raised  his  cane  to  the  bill  above  him  and 
gave  three  distinct  raps  upon  the  words  '  five  pounds/  which  were 
printed  therein  in  Roman  capitals  of  gigantic  size. 

"  *  Gad  so!'  said  the  undertaker,  taking  Mr.  Bumble  by  the 
gilt-edged  lappel  of  his  official  coat;  *  that's  just  the  very  thing  I 


OF   ENGLAND.  241 

wanted  to  speak  to  you  about.  You  know — dear  me,  what  a  very 
elegant  button  this  is,  Mr.  Bumble;  I  never  noticed  it  before/ 

"  '  Yes,  I  think  it  is  rather  pretty/  said  the  beadle,  glancing 
proudly  downward  at  the  large  brass  buttons  which  embellished 
his  coat.  '  The  die  is  the  same  as  the  parochial  seal — the  Good 
Samaritan  healing 'the  sick  and  bruised  man.  The  board  pre- 
sented it  to  me  on  New-year's  morning,  Mr.  Sowerberry.  I  put 
it  on,  I  remember,  for  the  first  time  to  attend  the  inquest  on  that 
reduced  tradesman  who  died  in  a  doorway  at  midnight/ 

"  '  I  recollect/  said  the  undertaker.  '  The  jury  brought  in — 
Died  from  exposure  to  the  cold,  and  want  of  the  common  neces- 
saries of  life — didn't  they?' 

"  Mr.  Bumble  nodded. 

"  'And  they  made  it  a  special  verdict,  I  think/  said  the  under- 
taker, '  by  adding  some  words  to  the  effect,  that  if  the  relieving 
officer  had' 

"'Tush — foolery!'  interposed  the  beadle,  angrily.  'If  the 
board  attended  to  all  the  nonsense  that  ignorant  jurymen  talk, 
they'd  have  enough  to  do/ 

"  '  Very  true/  said  the  undertaker;  '  they  would  indeed/ 

"  'Juries/  said  Mr.  Bumble,  grasping  his  cane  tightly,  as  was 
his  wont  when  working  into  a  passion — 'juries  is  ineddicated, 
vulgar,  grovelling  wretches/ 

"  '  So  they  are/  sa4d  the  undertaker. 

"  '  They  haven 't  no  more  philosophy  or  political  economy  about 
;em  than  that/  said  the  beadle,  snapping  his  fingers  contemptu- 
ously. 

"  '  No  more  they  have/  acquiesced  the  undertaker. 

"  '  I  despise  'em/  said  the  beadle,  growing  very  red  in  the  face. 

"  '  So  do  I/  rejoined  the  undertaker. 

"  '  And  I  only  wish  we'd  a  jury  of  the  independent  sort  in  the 
house  for  a  week  or  two/  said  the  beadle;  '  the  rules  and  regula- 
tions of  the  board  would  soon  bring  their  spirit  down  for  them/ 

"  '  Let  'em  alone  for  that/  replied  the  undertaker.  So  saying, 
he  smiled  approvingly  to  calm  the  rising  wrath  of  the  indignant 
parish  officer, 

"  Mr.  Bumble  lifted  off  his  cocked-hat,  took  a  handkerchief 


242  THE  WHITE  SLAVES 

from  the  inside  of  the  crown,  wiped  from  his  forehead  the  perspi- 
ration which  his  rage  had  engendered,  fixed  the  cocked  hat  on 
again,  and,  turning  to  the  undertaker,  said  in  a  calmer  voice, 
« Well,  what  about  the  boy? ' 

"  ' Oh!'  replied  the  undertaker;  'why,  you  know,  Mr.  Bumble, 
I  pay  a  good  deal  toward  the  poor's  rates.' 

"  '  Hem !'  said  Mr.  Bumble.     '  Well  ?' 

"  '  Well/  replied  the  undertaker,  *  I  was  thinking  that  if  I  pay 
80  much  toward  'em,  I've  a  right  to  get  as  much  out  of  'em  as  I 
can,  Mr.  Bumble ;  and  so — and  so — I  think  I'll  take  the  boy 
myself.' 

"  Mr.  Bumble  grasped  the  undertaker  by  the  arm  and  led  him 
into  the  building.  Mr.  Sowerberry  was  closeted  with  the  board 
for  five  minutes,  and  then  it  was  arranged  that  Oliver  should  go 
to  him  that  evening  '  upon  liking' — a  phrase  which  means,  in  the 
case  of  a  parish  apprentice,  that  if  the  master  find,  upon  a  short 
trial,  that  he  can  get  enough  work  out  of  a  boy  without  putting 
too  much  food  in  him,  he  shall  have  him  for  a  term  of  years  to 
do  what  he  likes  with. 

"  When  little  Oliver  was  taken  before  '  the  gentlemen'  that 
evening,  and  informed  that  he  was  to  go  that  night  as  general 
house-lad  to  a  coffin-maker's,  and  that  if  he  complained  of  his 
situation,  or  ever  came  back  to  the  parish  again,  he  would  be  sent 
to  sea,  there  to  be  drowned  or  knocked  on  the  head,  as  the  case 
might  be,  he  evinced  so  little  emotion,  that  they  by  common  con- 
Bent  pronounced  him  a  hardened  young  rascal,  and  ordered  Mr. 
Bumble  to  remove  him  forthwith." 

Some  years  ago  an  investigation  into  the  treatment 
of  the  poor  in  St.  Pancras  workhouse  was  made.  It 
originated  in  the  suicide  of  a  girl,  who,  having  left  her 
place,  drowned  herself  rather  than  return  to  the  work- 
house to  be  confined  in  the  "  shed" — a  place  of  confine- 
ment for  refractory  and  ill-disposed  paupers.  The  una- 
nimous verdict  of  the  coroner's  jury  was  to  this  effect, 


OF   ENGLAND.  243 

and  had  appended  to  it  an  opinion  that  the  discipline 
of  the  shed  was  unnecessarily  severe.  This  verdict  led 
to  an  investigation. 

Mr.  Howarth,  senior  churchwarden,  a  guardian,  and 
a  barrister,  explained  that  the  shed  was  used  for  sepa- 
rating able-bodied,  idle,  and  dissolute  paupers  from  the 
aged  and  respectable  inmates  of  the  house.  The  shed 
was  not,  he  declared,  a  place  of  confinement  any  more 
than  the  workhouse  itself.  The  place  in  question  con- 
sists of  two  rooms,  a  day-room  and  a  dormitory,  on  the 
basement  of  the  main  building,  two  feet  below  the  level 
of  the  soil,  each  about  thirty-five  feet  long  by  fifteen 
wide  and  seven  high.  The  bedroom  contains  ten  beds, 
occupied  sometimes  by  sixteen,  sometimes  by  twenty  or 
twenty-four  paupers.  According  to  the  hospital  calcu- 
lation of  a  cube  of  nine  feet  to  an  occupant,  the  dormi- 
tory should  accommodate  six  persons.  The  damp  from 
an  adjoining  cesspool  oozes  through  the  walls.  This 
pleasant  apartment  communicates  with  a  yard  forty  feet 
long,  and  from  fifteen  to  twenty  broad,  with  a  flagged 
pavement  and  high  walls.  This  yard  is  kept  always 
locked.  But  it  is  not  a  place  of  confinement.  Oh  no ! 
it  is  a  place  of  separation. 

Let  us  see  the  evidence  of  James  Hill,  who  waits  on 
the  occupants  of  the  shed: — "  They  are  locked  up  night 
and  day.  They  frequently  escape  over  the  walls.  They 
are  put  in  for  mis  conduct. " 

Mr.  Lee,  the  master  of  the  workhouse,  declares  that 


244  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

if  the  persons  in  the  shed  make  application  to  come  out, 
they  are  frequently  released.  He  is  "  not  aware  if  he 
has  any  legal  right  to  refuse  them,  but  does  sometimes 
exercise  that  authority."  One  of  the  women  is  there 
for  throwing  her  clothes  over  the  wall;  another  for 
getting  "  overtaken  in  liquor "  while  out  of  the  house, 
and  losing  her  pail  and  brush.  A  third  inmate  is  a  girl 
of  weak  intellect,  who  went  out  for  a  day,  was  made 
drunk  and  insensible  by  a  male  pauper,  and  suffered 
dreadful  maltreatment. 

All  the  pauper  witnesses  represent  the  shed  as  a  place 
of  punishment.  The  six  ounces  of  meat  given  three 
times  a  week  by  the  dietary,  is  reduced  to  four  ounces 
for  the  shed  paupers.  Still  all  this,  in  Mr.  Howarth's 
eyes,  neither  constitutes  the  shed  a  place  of  confinement 
nor  of  punishment.  It  is  a  place  of  separation.  So  is 
a  prison.  It  is  a  prison  in  a  prison ;  a  lower  depth  in 
the  lowest  deep  of  workhouse  wretchedness  and  restraint. 

Are  we  to  be  told  that  this  is  "  classification,"  (as 
the  report  of  the  directors  impudently  calls  it,)  by  which 
the  young  and  old,  imbecile  and  drunken,  sickly  and 
turbulent,  are  shut  up  together  day  and  night  picking 
oakum ;  looking  out  through  the  heavy  day  on  the  bare 
walls  of  their  wretched  yard — at  night  breathing  their 
own  foetid  exhalations  and  the  miasma  of  a  cesspool, 
twenty-four  of  them  sometimes  in  a  space  only  fit  to 
accommodate  six  with  due  regard  to  health  and  decency? 
And  all  this  at  the  arbitrary  will  of  master  or  matron, 


OF  ENGLAND.  245 

unchecked  by  the  board !  One  poor  creature  had  been 
there  for  three  years.  She  hsul  not  come  out  because 
«  she  was  in  such  bad  health,  and  had  nowhere  to  go." 
Yet  she  was  shut  up,  because  she  was  considered  able 
bodied  and  fit  for  work,  when  her  appearance  belied  it, 
and  spoke  her  broken  spirit  and  shattered  constitution. 

Mr.  W.  Lee,  guardian,  seemed  blessed  with  an  unusual 
amount  of  ignorance  as  to  his  legal  powers  and  respon- 
sibilities. He  kept  no  account  of  persons  confined  in 
the  black-hole,  for  forty-eight  hours  sometimes,  and 
without  directions  from  the  board.  He  thought  the 
matron  had  power  to  put  paupers  in  the  strong  room. 
On  one  point  he  was  certain:  he  "  had  no  doubt  that 
persons  have  been  confined  without  his  orders."  He 
«  had  no  doubt  that  he  had  received  instructions  from 
the  board  about  the  refractory  ward,  but  he  does  not 
know  where  to  find  them."  "  If  any  paupers  committed 
to  the  ward  feel  aggrieved,  they  can  apply  to  be  released, 
and  he  had  no  doubt  he  would  release  them."  He  made 
no  weekly  report  of  punishments.  He  reigned  supreme, 
monarch  of  all  he  surveyed,  wielding  the  terrors  of  shed 
and  black-hole  unquestioned  and  unchecked. 

In  Miss  Stone,  the  matron,  he  had  a  worthy  coadju- 
trix.  The  lady  felt  herself  very  much  "degraded"  by 
the  coroner's  jury.  They  asked  her  some  most  incon^ 
venient  questions,  to  which  she  gave  awkwardly  ready 
answers.  She  confined  to  the  shed  a  girl  who  returned 
from  place,  though  she  admitted  the  work  of  the  place 


246  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

was  too  much  for  her.  She  confessed  she  might  have 
punished  Jones  (the  suicide)  by  putting  her  in  the  black- 
hole;  but  it  was  a  mere  trifle — "only  a  few  hours''  in 
an  underground  cell,  "  perhaps  from  morning  till  night, 
for  refusing  to  do  some  domestic  service."  Jones  was 
helpless;  her  mistress  brought  her  back  to  the  work- 
house. Jones  cried,  and  begged  to  be  taken  back  to 
service,  offering  to  work  for  nothing.  Her  recollections 
of  the  workhouse  do  not  seem  to  have  been  pleasant. 
Hard  work,  unpaid ;  suicide ;  any  thing  rather  than  the 
shed. 

A  precious  testimony  to  the  St.  Pancras  system  of 
«  classification  I"  These  paupers  in  the  shed  are  clearly 
a  refractory  set.  "  They  complain  of  being  shut  up 
so  long."  "  They  say  they  would  like  more  bread  and 
more  meat."  Audacious  as  Oliver  Twist !  They  even 
complain  of  the  damp  and  bad  smell.  Ungrateful,  dainty 
wretches!  On  the  whole,  as  Mr.  Howarth  says,  it  is 
evidently  "  unjust  to  suppose  that  the  system  of  separa- 
tion adopted  in  the  house  is  regarded  as  a  mode  of  pu- 
nishment." The  directors  issued  a  solemn  summons  to 
the  members  of  the  parochial  medical  board.  District 
surgeons  and  consulting  surgeons  assembled,  inspected 
the  shed,  and  pronounced  it  a  very  pleasant  place  if  the 
roof  were  higher,  and  if  the  ventilation  were  better,  and 
if  the  damp  were  removed,  and  if  fewer  slept  in  a  bed, 
and  six  instead  of  twenty-four  in  the  room.  They  then 
examined  the  dietary,  and  pronounced  it  sufficient  if 


OF   ENGLAND.  247 

the  allowances  were  of  full  weight,  if  the  meat  were  of 
the  best  quality,  if  there  were  plenty  of  milk  in  the 
porridge,  and  if  the  broth  were  better.  Great  virtue 
in  an  "  if!"  Unhappily,  in  the  present  case,  the  allow- 
ances were  not  full  weight ;  the  meat  not  of  the  best 
quality ;  there  is  not  milk  enough  in  the  porridge ;  and 
the  broth  might  be  very  much  better,  and  yet  not  good. 

Mr.  Cooper,  the  parish  surgeon,  was  a  special  object 
of  antipathy  to  the  worthy  and  humane  Howarth;  he 
was  one  of  those  ridiculously  particular  men,  unfit  to 
deal  with  paupers.  He  actually  objected  to  the  pauper 
women  performing  their  ablutions  in  the  urinals,  and 
felt  aggrieved  when  the  master  told  him  to  "  mind  his 
shop/'  and  Howarth  stood  by  without  rebuking  the 
autocrat !  Mr.  Cooper,  too,  admits  that  the  dietary 
would  be  sufficient  with  all  the  above-mentioned  "  ifs." 
But  he  finds  that  the  milk  porridge  contains  one  quart 
of  milk  to  six  of  oatmeal ;  that  the  meat  is  half  fat,  and 
often  uneatable  from  imperfect  cooking ;  and  that  the 
frequent  stoppages  of  diet  are  destructive  of  the  health 
of  the  younger  inmates.  His  remonstrances,  however, 
have  been  received  in  a  style  that  has  read  him  a  lesson, 
and  he  ceases  to  remonstrate  accordingly,  and  the  guar- 
dians have  it  as  they  would — a  silent  surgeon  and  an 
omnipotent  master. 

The  saddest  part  of  the  farce,  however,  was  that  of 
the  last  day's  proceedings.  The  quality  and  quantity 
of  the  diet  had  been  discussed ;  the  directors  felt  bound 


248  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

to  examine -into  both;  so  they  proceeded  to  the  house. 
Of  course  the  master  knew  nothing  of  the  intended  visit. 
Who  can  suspect  the  possibility  of  such  a  thing  after 
the  previous  display  of  Howarth's  impartiality  and  de- 
termination to  do  justice  ?  So  to  the  house  they  went. 
They  took  the  excellent  Lee  quite  by  surprise,  and  en- 
joyed parish  pot-luck.  Dr.  Birmingham's  description 
makes  one's  mouth  water : — 

"He  came  to  the  house  on  Saturday,  in  order  to  examine  the 
food ;  he  found  that,  on  that  day,  the  inmates  had  what  was  called 
ox-cheek  soup ;  he  tasted  it,  and  he  was  so  well  satisfied  with  it 
that  he  took  all  that  was  given  to  him.  He  then  went  into  the 
kitchen,  and  saw  the  master  cutting  up  meat  for  the  sick  and 
infirm.  He  tasted  the  mutton,  and  found  it  as  succulent  and  as 
good  as  that  which  he  purchased  for  his  own  consumption." 

The  picture  of  this  patriarchal  and  benevolent  master 
"cutting  up  meat  for  the  sick  and  infirm,"  is  perfectly 
beautiful.  Howarth,  too,  did  his  duty,  and  was  equally 
lucky. 

"  Mr.  Howarth  stated  that  he  had  visited  the  house  yesterday, 
and  had  examined  the  food,  with  the  quality  of  which  he  was 
perfectly  satisfied.  He  tasted  the  soup,  and  was  so  well  pleased 
with  it  that  he  obtained  an  allowance.  (A  laugh.)'' 

But  not  satisfied  with  this,  that  Rhadamanthus  of  a 
Birmingham  proposed  a  crucial  test. 

"  He  begged  to  move  that  the  master  of  the  workhouse  be  de- 
sired to  bring  before  the  board  the  ordinary  rations  allowed  the 
paupers  for  breakfast,  dinner,  and  supper ;  and  that  any  gentle- 
man present  be  allowed  to  call  and  examine  any  of  the  paupers 


OF   ENGLAND.  249 

as  to  whether  the  food  they  usually  received  was  of  the  same 
quality,  and  in  the  same  quantity." 

The  rations  were  produced ;  "and,  lo!  the  porridge 
smoked  upon  the  board."  Thus  it  was,  in  tempting  and 
succulent  array — the  pauper  bill  of  fare : — 

Soup. 

Cheese.  Pease  porridge.  Potatoes. 

Meat.  Beer. 

Nothing  can  be  more  tempting ;  who  would  not  be  a 
pauper  of  St.  Pancras  ?  Six  paupers  are  called  in,  and 
one  and  all  testify  that  the  rations  of  meat,  potatoes, 
soup,  and  porridge  are  better  in  quality  and  greater  in 
quantity  than  the  workhouse  allowance.  There  is  a 
slight  pause.  Birmingham  looks  blank  at  Howarth,  and 
Howarth  gazes  uneasily  on  Birmingham ;  but  it  is  only 
for  a  minute :  ready  wits  jump : — 

"  Dr.  Birmingham.  This  is  the  allowance  for  Sunday. 
"  Mr.  Marley.   I  understand  there  is  no  difference  between  the 
allowance  on  Sunday  and  on  any  other  day. 

"  Mr.  Howarth.  They  have  better  meat  on  Sundays." 

What  follows  this  glaring  exposure  ?  Impeachment 
of  the  master,  on  this  clear  proof  of  malversation  in  the 
house  and  dishonesty  before  the  board?  So  expects 
Mr.  Halton,  and  very  naturally  suggests  that  Mr.  Lee 
be  called  on  for  an  explanation.  Mr.  Lee  is  not  called 
on,  and  no  explanation  takes  place.  The  room  is  cleared, 
and,  after  an  hour  and  a  half  s  discussion,  a  report  is 

unanimously  agreed  to.     Our  readers  may  anticipate  its 

17 


250  THE  WHITE  SLAVES 

tenour.  It  finds  that  there  is  no  place  deserving  to  be 
called  the  shed ;  that  the  rooms  so  called  are  very  ad- 
mirable places  of  " separation' '  for  refractory  paupers; 
that  the  diet  is  excellent ;  that  every  thing  is  as  it  ought 
to  be.  It  recommends  that  reports  of  punishments  be 
more  regularly  made  to  the  board,  that  classification  of 
old  and  young  be  improved,  and  that  some  little  change 
be  made  in  the  ventilation  of  the  refractory  wards ! 

And  so  concludes  this  sad  farce  of  the  St.  Pancras 
investigation.  One  more  disgraceful  to  the  guardians 
cannot  be  found  even  in  the  pregnant  annals  of  work- 
house mismanagement.* 

"Farming  out"  paupers,  especially  children,  is  one 
of  the  most  prolific  sources  of  misery  among  the 
English  poor  who  are  compelled  to  appeal  to  the 
parish  authorities.  This  practice  consists  of  entering 
into  contracts  with  individuals  to  supply  the  paupers 
with  food,  clothing,  and  lodging.  The  man  who  offers 
to  perform  the  work  for  the  smallest  sum  commonly 
gets  the  contract,  and  then  the  poor  wretches  who  look 
to  him  for  the  necessaries  of  life  must  submit  to  all 
kinds  of  treatment,  and  be  stinted  in  every  thing. 
During  the  last  visit  of  that  scourge,  the  cholera,  to 
England,  a  large  number  of  farmed  pauper  children 
were  crowded,  by  one  Mr.  Drouet,  a  contractor,  into  a 
close  and  filthy  building,  where  they  nearly  all  perished. 

*  London  Daily  News. 


OF  ENGLAND.  251 

An  investigation  was  subsequently  held,  but  influential 
persons  screened  the  authors  of  this  tragedy  from 
justice.  During  the  investigation,  it  was  clearly  shown 
that  the  children  confided  to  the  care  of  Mr.  Drouet 
were  kept  in  a  state  of  filth  and  semi-starvation. 

So  much  for  the  boasted  charity  of  the  dominant 
class  in  Great  Britain!  By  its  enormous  drain  upon 
the  public  purse,  and  its  vast  monopoly  of  that  soil 
which  was  given  for  the  use  of  all,  it  creates  millions 
of  paupers — wretches  without  homes,  without  resources, 
and  almost  without  hope ;  and  then,  to  prevent  them- 
selves from  being  hurled  from  their  high  and  luxurious 
places,  and  from  being  devoured  as  by  ravenous  wolves, 
they  take  the  miserable  paupers  in  hand,  separate 
families,  shut  them  up,  as  in  the  worst  of  prisons,  and 
give  them  something  to  keep  life  in  their  bodies. 
Then  the  lords  and  ladies  ask  the  world  to  admire  their 
charitable  efforts,  What  they  call  charity  is  the  off- 
spring of  fear ! 

A  member  of  the  humbler  classes  in  England  no 
sooner  begins  to  exist,  than  the  probability  of  his  be* 
coming  a  pauper  is  contemplated  by  the  laws.  A  writer 
in  Chambers's  Journal  says,  in  regard  to  this  point — 

"  Chargeability  is  the  English  slave  system.  The  poor  man 
cannot  go  where  he  lists  in  search  of  employment — he  may  be- 
come chargeable.  He  cannot  take  a  good  place  which  may  be 
offered  to  him,  for  he  cannot  get  a  residence,  lest  he  become 
chargeable.  Houses  are  pulled  down  over  the  ears  of  honest 
working-men,  and  decent  poor  people  are  driven  from  Dan  to 


252  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

Beersheba,  lest  they  become  chargeable.  There  is  something  in- 
finitely distressing  in  the  whole  basis  of  this  idea — that  an  Eng- 
lish peasant  must  needs  be  regarded  from  his  first  breath,  and  all 
through  life,  as  a  possible  pauper.  But  the  positive  hardships 
arising  from  the  idea  are  what  we  have  at  present  to  deal  with. 

"  These  are  delineated  in  a  happy  collection  of  facts  lately 
brought  forward  by  Mr.  Chadwick  at  a  meeting  of  the  Farmers' 
Club  in  London.  It  appears  that  the  company  assembled,  who, 
from  their  circumstances,  were  all  qualified  to  judge  of  the  truth 
of  the  facts  and  the  soundness  of  the  conclusions,  gave  a  general 
assent  to  what  was  said  by  the  learned  poor-law  secretary.  Un- 
fortunately, we  can  only  give  a  few  passages  from  this  very  re- 
markable speech. 

"  Mr.  Chadwick  first  referred  to  the  operation  of  the  existing 
law  upon  unsettled  labouring  men.  *  The  lower  districts  of  Read- 
ing were  severely  visited  with  fever  during  the  last  year,  which 
called  attention  to  the  sanitary  condition  of  the  labouring  popu- 
lation. I  was  requested  to  visit  it.  While  making  inquiries 
upon  the  subject,  I  learned  that  some  of  the  worst-conditioned 
places  were  occupied  by  agricultural  labourers.  Many  of  them, 
it  appeared,  walked  four,  six,  seven,  and  even  eight  miles,  in  wet 
and  snow,  to  and  from  their  places  of  work,  after  twelve  hours' 
work  on  the  farm.  Why,  however,  were  agricultural  labourers 
in  these  fever-nests  of  a  town  ?  I  was  informed,  in  answer,  that 
they  were  driven  in  there  by  the  pulling  down  of  cottages,  to 
avoid  parochial  settlements  and  contributions  to  their  mainte- 
nance in  the  event  of  destitution.  Among  a  group,  taken  as  an 
example  there,  in  a  wretched  place  consisting  of  three  rooms,  ten 
feet  long,  lived  Stephen  Turner,  a  wife,  and  three  children,  He 
walked  to  and  from  his  place  of  work  about  seven  miles  daily, 
expending  two  hours  and  a  half  in  walking  before  he  got  to  his 
productive  work  on  the  farm.  His  wages  are  10s.  a  week,  out 
of  which  he  pays  2s.  for  his  wretched  tenement.  If  he  were  resi- 
dent on  the  farm,  the  two  and  a  half  hours  of  daily  labour  spent 
in  walking  might  be  expended  in  productive  work;  his  labour 
•would  be  worth,  according  to  his  own  account,  and  I  believe  to  a 
fanner's  acknowledgment,  2s.  6d.  per  week  more.  For  a  rent  of 


OF   ENGLAND.  253 

£5  5s.,  such  as  he  now  pays,  he  would  be  entitled  to  a  good  cot- 
tage with  a  garden  ;  and  his  wife  and  children  being  near,  would 
be  available  for  the  farm  labour.  So  far  as  I  could  learn  there 
are  between  one  hundred  and  two  hundred  agricultural  labourers 
living  in  the  borough  of  Reading,  and  the  numbers  are  increas- 
ing. The  last  week  brought  to  my  notice  a  fact  illustrative  of 
the  present  unjust  state  of  things,  so  far  as  regards  the  labourer. 
A  man  belonging  to  Maple-Durham  lived  in  Reading;  walked 
about  four  miles  a  day  to  his  work,  the  sajne  back,  frequently 
getting  wet ;  took  fever,  and  continued  ill  some  time,  assisted  by 
the  Reading  Union  in  his  illness ;  recovered,  and  could  have  re- 
turned to  his  former  employment  of  10s.  per  week,  but  found  he 
was  incapable  of  walking  the  distance ;  the  consequence  was,  he 
took  work  that  only  enabled  him  to  earn  5s.  per  week ;  he  is  now 
again  unable  to  work.  Even  in  Lincolnshire,  where  the  agri- 
culture is  of  a  high  order,  and  the  wages  of  the  labourer  conse- 
quently not  of  the  lowest,  similar  displacements  have  been  made, 
to  the  prejudice  of  the  farmer  as  well  as  the  labourer,  and,  as  will 
be  seen,  of  the  owner  himself.  Near  Gainsborough,  Lincoln,  and 
Louth,  the  labourers  walk  even  longer  distances  than  near  Read- 
ing. I  am  informed  of  instances  where  they  walk  as  far  as  six 
miles ;  that  is,  twelve  miles  daily,  or  seventy-two  miles  weekly, 
to  and  from  their  places  of  work.  Let  us  consider  the  bare 
economy,  the  mere  waste  of  labour,  and  what  a  state  of  agricul- 
tural management  is  indicated  by  the  fact  that  such  a  waste  can 
have  taken  place.  Fifteen  miles  a  day  is  the  regular  march  of 
infantry  soldiers,  with  two  rest-days — one  on  Monday,  and  one 
on  Thursday ;  twenty-four  miles  is  a  forced  march.  The  man 
who  expends  eight  miles  per  diem,  or  forty-eight  miles  per  week, 
expends  to  the  value  of  at  least  two  days'  hard  labour  per  week, 
or  one  hundred  in  the  year,  uselessly,  that  might  be  expended 
usefully  and  remuneratively  in  production.  How  different  is  it 
in  manufactories,  and  in  some  of  the  mines,  or  at  least  in  the 
best-managed  and  most  successful  of  them !  In  some  mines  as 
much  as  £2000  and  £3000  is  paid  for  new  machinery  to  benefit 
the  labourers,  and  save  them  the  labour  of  ascending  and  de- 
scending by  ladders.  In  many  manufactories  they  have  hoists  to 
L 


254  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

raise  them  and  their  loads  from  lower  to  upper  rooms,  to  save 
them  the  labour  of  toiling  up  stairs,  to  economize  their  strength 
for  piece-work  to  mutual  advantage.  It  is  not  in  county  and 
"borough  towns  only  that  this  unwholesome  over-crowding  is  going 
on.  I  am  informed  that  from  the  like  cause  the  evil  of  over-crowd- 
ing is  going  on  in  the  ill-conditioned  villages  of  open  parishes. 
It  is  admitted,  and  made  manifest  in  extensive  evidence  given  be- 
fore a  committee  of  the  house  of  lords  by  practical  farmers,  that 
when  an  agricultural  labourer  applies  for  work,  the  first  question 
put  to  him  is,  not  what  has  been  his  experience,  what  can  he  do, 
but  to  what  parish  does  he  belong.  If  he  do  not  belong  to  the 
parish  of  the  occupier,  the  reply  is  usually  an  expression  of  re- 
gret that  he  can  only  employ  the  labourer  of  his  own  parish.  To 
the  extent  to  which  the  farmer  is  directly  liable  to  the  payment 
of  rates,  by  the  displacement  of  a  settled  parish  labourer,  he  is 
liable  to  a  penalty  for  the  employment  of  any  other  labourer  who 
is  not  of  the  parish.  To  the  same  extent  is  he  liable  to  a  penalty 
if  he  do  not  employ  a  parish  labourer  who  is  worthless,  though 
a  superior  labourer  may  be  got  by  going  farther  a-field,  to  whom 
he  would  give  better  wages.  This  labourer  who  would  go  farther 
is  thus  driven  back  upon  his  parish ;  that  is  to  say,  imposed,  and 
at  the  same  time  made  dependent,  upon  the  two  or  three  or  seve- 
ral farmers,  by  whom  the  parish  is  occupied.  He  then  says,  'If 
this  or  that  farmer  will  not  employ  me,  one  of  them  must ;  if 
none  of  them  will,  the  parish  must  keep  me,  and  the  parish  pay 
is  as  good  as  any.'  Labour  well  or  ill,  he  will  commonly  get 
little  more,  and  it  is  a  matter  of  indifference  to  him :  it  is  found 
to  be,  in  all  its  essential  conditions,  labour  without  hope — slave 
labour ;  and  he  is  rendered  unworthy  of  his  hire.  On  the  other 
hand,  in  what  condition  does  the  law  place  the  employer  ?  It 
imposes  upon  him  the  whole  mass  of  labourers  of  a  narrow  dis- 
trict, of  whatsoever  sort,  without  reference  to  his  wants  or  his 
capital.  He  says,  '  I  do  not  want  the  men  at  this  time,  or  these 
men  are  not  suitable  to  me  ;  they  will  not  do  the  work  I  want ; 
but  if  I  must  have  them,  or  pay  for  keeping  them  in  idleness  if  I 
do  not  employ  them,  why,  then,  I  can  only  give  them  such  wages 
as  their  labour  is  worth  to  me,  and  that  is  little/  Hence  wages 


OF  ENGLAND.  255 

are  inevitably  reduced.  What  must  be  the  effect  upon  the  manu- 
facturer if  he  were  placed  in  the  same  position  as  tenant  farmers 
are  in  the  smaller  parishes  in  the  southern  counties,  if  he  were 
restricted  to  the  employment  only  of  the  labourers  in  the  parish? 
- — if,  before  he  engaged  a  smith,  a  carpenter,  or  a  mason,  he  were 
compelled  to  inquire,  '  To  what  parish  do  you  belong  ?'  Why, 
that  the  24s.  a  week  labour  would  fall  to  12s.  or  10s,,  or  the  price 
of  agricultural  labour.  Agriculturists  from  northern  districts, 
who  work  their  farms  with  12s.  and  15s.  a  week  free  labour,  have 
declined  the  temptation  of  low  rents,  to  take  farms  in  parishes 
where  the  wages  are  7s.  or  8s.  a  week.  While  inspecting  a  farm 
in  one  of  these  pauperized  districts,  an  able  agriculturist  could  not 
help  noticing  the  slow,  drawling  motions  of  one  of  the  labourers 
there,  and  said,  *  My  man,  you  do  not  sweat  at  that  work/  '  Why, 
no,  master/  was  the  reply ;  '  seven  shillings  a  week  isn't  sweat- 
ing wages/  The  evidence  I  have  cited  indicates  the  circum- 
stances which  prevent  the  adoption  of  piece-work,  and  which, 
moreover,  restrict  the  introduction  of  machinery  into  agricultural 
operations,  which,  strange  though  it  may  appear  to  many,  is 
greatly  to  the  injury  of  the  working  classes  ;  for  wherever  agri- 
cultural labour  is  free,  and  machinery  has  been  introduced,  there 
more  and  higher-paid  labour  is  required,  and  labourers  are 
enabled  to  go  on  and  earn  good  wages  by  work  with  machines 
long  after  their  strength  has  failed  them  for  working  by  hand. 
In  free  districts,  and  with  high  cultivation  by  free  and  skilled 
labour,  I  can  adduce  instances  of  skilled  agricultural  labourers 
paid  as  highly  as  artisans.  I  could  adduce  an  instance,  bordering 
upon  Essex,  where  the  owner,  working  it  with  common  parish 
labour  at  Is.  6d.,  a  day,  could  not  make  it  pay ;  and  an  able 
farmer  now  works  it  with  free  labour,  at  2s.  6d.t  3s.,  and 
3s.  6d.t  and  even  more,  per  day,  for  taskwork,  and,  there  is 
reason  to  believe,  makes  it  pay  well.  A  farmer,  who  died 
not  long  ago  immensely  wealthy,  was  wont  to  say  that  'he 
could  not  live  upon  poor  2s,  a  day  labour ;  he  could  not  make  his 
money  upon  less  than  half-crowners/  The  freedom  of  labour, 
not  only  in  the  northern  counties,  but  in  some  places  near  the 
slave-labour  districts  of  the  southern  counties,  is  already  attend- 


256  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

ed  with  higher  wages — at  the  rate  of  12s.,  14s.,  and  15s.  weekly. 
In  such  counties  as  Berks  and  Bedford,  the  freedom  of  the  labour 
market,  when  it  came  into  full  operation,  could  not  raise  wages 
less  than  2s.  a  week ;  and  2s.  a  week  would,  in  those  counties, 
represent  a  sum  of  productive  expenditure  and  increased  produce 
equal  to  the  whole  amount  of  unproductive  expenditure  on  the 
poor-rates/ ;; 

By  this  arrangement  of  parochial  settlement,  the 
English  agricultural  labourer  has  a  compulsory  resi- 
dence, like  that  of  the  American  slave  upon  the  planta- 
tion where  he  is  born.  This,  therefore,  is  one  of  the 
most  striking  manifestations  of  the  peasant  being  a 
serf.  A  free  and  beautiful  system  is  that  of  the 
English  Unions ! 


OF  ENGLAND.  257 


CHAPTER  VI. 

IMPRESSMENT,   OR   KIDNAPPING  WHITE   MEN  FOR   SLAVES 
IN   THE   NAVAL   SERVICE. 

ONE  of  the  most  repulsive  features  of  the  general 
System  of  slavery  in.  Great  Britain,  is  called  impress- 
ment. It  is  the  forcible  removal  of  seamen  from  their 
ordinary  employment,  and  compelling  them  to  serve, 
against  their  will,  in  the  ships  of  war.  Long  ago, 
some  of  the  maritime  nations  condemned  men  to  the 
galleys  for  crime.  But  Great  Britain  dooms  peaceable 
and  unoffending  men  to  her  vessels  of  war,  severs  all 
the  ties  of  home  and  kindred,  and  outrages  every  prin- 
ciple of  justice,  in  this  practice  of  impressment.  The 
husband  is  torn  from  his  wife,  the  father  from  his  chil- 
dren, the  brother  from  the  sister,  by  the  press-gangs — 
the  slave-hunters  of  Britain. 

This  practice  is  not  expressly  sanctioned  by  any  act 
of  Parliament,  but  it  is  so,  indirectly,  by  the  numerous 
statutes  that  have  been  passed  granting  exemptions 
from  it.  According  to  Lord  Mansfield,  it  is  "a  power 
founded  upon  immemorial  usage,"  and  is  understood  to 
make'  a  part  of  the  common  la^r.  All  seafaring  men 


258  THE  WHITE  SLAVES 

are  liable  to  impressment,  unless  specially  protected  by 
custom  or  statute.  Seamen  executing  particular  ser- 
vices for  government,  not  unfrequently  get  protections 
from  the  Admiralty,  Navy  Board,  &c.  Some  are  ex- 
empted by  local  custom  ;  and  ferrymen  are  everywhere 
privileged  from  impressment.  The  statutory  exemp- 
tions are  as  follows : — 

I.  Every  ship  in  the  coal-trade  has  the  following  persons  pro- 
tected, viz.  two  able  seamen  (such  as  the  master  shall  nominate) 
for  every  ship  of  one  hundred  tons,  and  one  for  every  fifty  tons 
for  every  ship  of  one  hundred  tons  and  upward ;  and  every  officer 
who  presumes  to  impress  any  of  the  above,  shall  forfeit,  to  the 
master  or  owner  of  such  vessel,  £10  for  every  man  so  impressed; 
and  such  officers  shall  be  incapable  of  holding  any  place,  office, 
or  employment  in  any  of  his  majesty's  ships  of  war. — 6  and  7 
Will.  3,  c.  18,  ?  19.* 

II.  No  parish  apprentice  shall  be  compelled  or  permitted  to  en- 
ter into  his  majesty's  sea-service,  until  he  arrives  at  the  age  of 
eighteen  years. — 2  and  3  Anne,  c.  6,  $  4. 

III.  Persons  voluntarily  binding  themselves  apprentices  to  sea- 
service,  shall  not  be  impressed  for  three  years  from  the  date  of 
their  indentures.     [This  is  a  protection  for  the  master — not  for 
the  parish  apprentice.]     But  no  persons  above  eighteen  years  of 
age  shall  have  any  exemption  or  protection  from  his  majesty's 
service,  if  they  have  been  at  sea  before  they  became  apprentices. 
—2  and  3  Anne,  c.  6,  g  15 ;  4  Anne,  c.  19,  g  17 ;  and  13  Geo.  2, 
c.17,82. 

*  In  order  that  these  men  shall  be  thus  protected,  it  is  necessary 
for  the  master  TO  NAME  THEM,  before  they  are  impressed ;  this  is  to 
be  done  by  going  before  the  mayor  or  other  chief  magistrate  of  the 
place,  who  is  to  give  the  master  a  certificate,  in  which  is  contained 
the  names  of  the  particular  men  whom  he  thus  nominates ;  and  this 
certificate  will  be  their  protection. 


OF  ENGLAND.  ,  259 

IV.  Apprentices. — The  act  4  Geo.  4,  c.  25,  enacts  some  new 
regulations  with  respect  to  the  number  of  apprentices  that  ships 
must  have  on  board,  according  to  their  tonnage,  and  grants  pro- 
tection to  such  apprentices  till  they  have  attained  the  age  of 
twenty-one  years. 

V.  Persons  employed  in  the  fisheries. — The  act  50  Geo.  3,  c.  108, 
grants  the  following  exemptions  from  impressment,  viz.: 

1.  Masters  of  fishing  vessels  or  boats,  who,  either  themselves  or 
their  owners,  have,  or  within  six  months  before  apply  ing"  for  a 
protection  shall  have  had,  one  apprentice  or  more,  under  sixteen 
years  of  age,  bound  for  five  years,  and  employed  in  the  business 
of  fishing. 

2.  All  such  apprentices,  not  exceeding  eight  to  every  master  or 
owner  of  any  fishing  vessel  of  fifty  tons  or  upward ;  not  exceed- 
ing seven  to  every  vessel  or  boat  of  thirty-five  tons,  and  under 
fifty ;  not  exceeding  six  to  every  vessel  of  thirty  tons,  or  under 
thirty-five ;   and  not  exceeding  four  to  every  boat  under  thirty 
tons  burden,  during  the  time  of  their  apprenticeship,  and  till  the 
age  of  twenty  years ;  they  continuing,  for  the  time,  in  the  busi- 
ness of  fishing  only. 

3.  One  mariner,  besides  the  master  and  apprentices,  to  every 
fishing  vessel  of  one  hundred  tons  or  upward,  employed  on  the 
Bea-coast,  during  his  continuance  in  such  service. 

4.  Any  landsman,  above  the  age  of  eighteen,  entering  and  em- 
ployed on  board  such  vessel  for  two  years  from  his  first  going  to 
sea  and  to  the  end  of  the  voyage  then  engaged  in,  if  he  so  long 
continue  in  such  service.     [The  ignorance  of  a  landsman  seems 
to  be  the  only  reason  for  this  exemption.] 

An  affidavit  sworn  before  a  justice  of  the  peace,  containing  the 
tonnage  of  such  fishing  vessel  or  boat,  the  port  or  place  to  which 
she  belongs,  the  name  and  description  of  the  master,  the  age  of 
every  apprentice,  the  term  for  which  he  is  bound  and  the  date  of 
his  indenture,  and  the  name,  age,  and  description  of  every  such 
mariner  and  landsman  respectively,  and  the  time  of  such  lands- 
man's first  going  to  sea,  is  to  be  transmitted  to  the  Admiralty ; 
who^upon  finding  the  facts  correctly  stated,  grant  a  separate  pro- 
tection to  every  individual.  In  case,  however,  "  of  an  actual  in* 


260  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

vasion  of  these  'kingdoms,  or  imminent  danger  thereof"  such  pro- 
tected persons  may  be  impressed ;  but  except  upon  such  an  emer- 
gency, any  officer  or  officers  impressing  such  protected  person, 
shall  respectively  forfeit  £20  to  the  party  impressed,  if  not  an 
apprentice,  or  to  his  master  if  he  be  an  apprentice. — \\  2,  3,  4. 
[The  phrase,  "imminent  danger  of  invasion,"  is  susceptible  of  • 
a  wide  interpretation  for  the  purposes  of  tyranny.] 

VI.  General  exemptions. — All  persons  fifty-five  years  of  age  and 
upward,   and  under    eighteen    years.     Every  person    being  a 
foreigner,  who  shall  serve  in  any  merchant  ship,  or  other  trading 
vessels  or  privateers,  belonging  to  a  subject  of  the  crown  of 
Great  Britain ;  and  all  persons,  of  what  age  soever,  who  shall  use 
the  sea,  shall  be  protected  for  two  years,  to  be  computed  from  the 
time  of  their  first  using  it. — 13  Geo.  2,  c.  17.     [The  impressment 
of  American  seamen,  before  the  war  of  1812,  shows  how  easily 
these  exemptions  may  be  disregarded.] 

VII.  Harpooners,  line-managers,  or  boat-steerers,  engaged  in 
the   Southern  whale   fishery,   are   also   protected. — 2$   Geo.  3, 
c.  50. 

VIII.  Mariners  employed  in  the  herring  fisheries  are  exempted 
while  actually  employed. — 48  Geo.  3,  c.  110. 

"  The  practice  of  impressment,''  says  McCulloch,  "  so  subver- 
sive of  every  principle  of  justice,  is  vindicated  on  the  alleged 
ground  of  its  being  absolutely  necessary  to  the  manning  of  the 
fleet.  But  this  position,  notwithstanding  the  confidence  with 
which  it  has  been  taken  up,  is  not  quite  so  tenable  as  has  been 
supposed.  The  difficulties  experienced  in  procuring  sailors  for 
the  fleet  at  the  breaking  out  of  a  war  are  not  natural,  but  artificial, 
and  might  be  got  rid  of  by  a  very  simple  arrangement.  During 
peace,  not  more  than  a  fourth  or  fifth  part  of  the  seamen  are  re- 
tained in  his  majesty's  service  that  are  commonly  required  during 
war ;  and,  if  peace  continue  for  a  few  years,  the  total  number  of 
sailors  in  the  king's  and  the  merchant  service  is  limited  to  that 
which  is  merely  adequate  to  supply  the  reduced  demand  of  the 
former  and  the  ordinary  demand  of  the  latter.  When,  therefore, 
war  is  declared,  and  30,000  or  40,000  additional  seamen  are  wanted 
for  the  fleet,  they  cannot  be  obtained,  unless  by  withdrawing  them 


OF   ENGLAND.  261 

from  the  merchant  service,  which  has  not  more  than  its  comple- 
ment of  hands.  But  to  do  this  by  offering  the  seamen  higher 
wages  would  be  next  to  impossible,  and  would,  supposing  it  were 
practicable,  impose  such  a  sacrifice  upon  the  public  as  could 
hardly  be  borne.  And  hence,  it  is  said,  the  necessity  of  impress- 
ment, a  practice  which  every  one  admits  can  be  justified  on  no 
other  ground  than  that  of  its  being  absolutely  essential  to  the 
public  safety.  It  is  plain,  however,  that  a  necessity  of  this  kind 
may  be  easily  obviated.  All,  in  fact,  that  is  necessary  for  this 
purpose,  is  merely  to  keep  such  a  number  of  sailors  in  his  ma- 
jesty's service  during  peace,  as  may  suffice,  with  the  ordinary 
proportion  of  landsmen  and  boys,  to  man  the  fleet  at  the  breaking 
out  of  a  war.  Were  this  done,  there  would  not  be  the  shadow  of 
a  pretence  for  resorting  to  impressment ;  and  the  practice,  with 
the  cruelty  and  injustice  inseparable  from  it,  might  be  entirely 
abolished. 

"  But  it  is  said  that,  though  desirable  in  many  respects,  the 
expense  of  such  a  plan  will  always  prevent  its  being  adopted.  It 
admits,  however,  of  demonstration,  that  instead  of  being  dearer, 
this  plan  would  be  actually  cheaper  than  that  which  is  now  fol- 
lowed. Not  more  than  1,000,OOOZ.  or  1,200,OOOZ.  a  year  would  be 
required  to  be  added  to  the  navy  estimates,  and  that  would  not  be 
a  real,  but  merely  a  nominal  advance.  The  violence  and  injustice 
to  which  the  practice  of  impressment  exposes  sailors  operates  at 
all  times  to  raise  their  wages,  by  creating  a  disinclination  on  the 
part  of  many  young  men  to  enter  the  sea-service ;  and  this  disin- 
clination is  vastly  increased  during  war,  when  wages  usually  rise 
to  four  or  five  times  their  previous  amount,  imposing  a  burden  on 
the  commerce  of  the  country,  exclusive  of  other  equally  mischievous 
consequences,  many  times  greater  than  the  tax  that  would  be 
required  to  keep  up  the  peace  establishment  of  the  navy  to  its 
proper  level.  It  is  really,  therefore,  a  vulgar  error  to  suppose 
that  impressment  has  the  recommendation  of  cheapness  in  its 
favour ;  and,  though  it  had,  no  reasonable  man  will  contend  that 
that  is  the  only,  or  even  the  principal,  circumstance  to  be  attended 
to.  In  point  of  fact,  however,  it  is  as  costly  as  it  is  oppressive 
and  unjust." 

L* 


262  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

These  'remarks  are  creditable  to  the  good  sense  and 
humanity  of  McCulloch ;  but  are  too  much  devoted  to 
the  expediency  of  outrage.  To  speak  more  clearly,  the 
discussion  is  conducted  in  too  cool-blooded  a  style.  We 
defy  any  man  of  ordinary  sensibility  to  read  the  ac- 
counts of  scenes  attending  many  cases  of  impressment, 
without  feeling  the  deepest  pity  for  the  enslaved  seaman 
and  his  bereaved  relatives  and  friends,  and  burning 
with  indignation  at  the  heartless  tyranny  displayed  by 
the  government.  After  a  long  and  laborious  voyage  in 
a  merchant  vessel,  the  sun-burned  seamen  arrives  in 
sight  of  home.  His  wife  and  children,  who  have  long 
bewailed  his  absence  and  feared  for  his  fate,  stand, 
with  joyous  countenances,  upon  the  shore,  eager  to 
embrace  the  returned  wanderer.  Perhaps  a  govern- 
ment vessel,  on  the  search  for  seaman,  then  sends  its 
barbarous  press-gang  aboard  the  merchantman,  and 
forces  the  husband  and  father  once  more  from  the  pre- 
sence of  the  beloved  ones.  Or,  he  is  permitted  to  land. 
He  visits  his  home,  and  is  just  comfortably  settled,  re- 
solved to  pass  the  rest  of  his  days  with  his  family,  when 
the  gang  tears  him  from  their  arms — and  years — long, 
dragging  years  will  pass  away  before  he  will  be  allowed 
to  return.  Then,  the  wife  may  be  dead,  the  children  at 
the  mercy  of  the  parish.  This  is  English  freedom  !  A 
gang  of  manacled  negroes  shocks  humanity,  and  calls 
down  the  vengeance  of  heaven  upon  the  head  of  the 
slave-driver ;  but  a  press-gang  may  perform  its  heart- 


OF  ENGLAND.  263 

rending  work  in  perfect  consistency  with  the  free  and 
glorious  institutions  of  Britain. 

By  far  the  most  thrilling  narrative  of  the  scenes 
attending  impressments,  with  which  we  are  acquainted, 
is  to  be  found  in  the  romance  of  "  Katie  Stewart/'  pub- 
lished in  Blackwood's  Magazine,  without  the  author's 
name.  We  quote : — 

"  The  next  day  was  the  Sabbath,  and  Willie  Morison,  with  his 
old  mother  leaning  on  his  arm,  reverently  deposited  his  silver  half- 
crown  in  the  plate  at  the  door  of  West  Anster  Church,  an  offer- 
ing of  thankfulness,  for  the  parish  poor.  There  had  been  various 
returns  during  the  previous  week ;  a  brig  from  the  Levant,  and 
another  from  Riga — where,  with  its  cargo  of  hemp,  it  had  been 
frozen  in  all  the  winter — had  brought  home  each  their  proportion 
of  welcome  family  fathers,  and  young  sailor  men,  like  Willie  Mo- 
rison himself,  to  glad  the  eyes  of  friends  and  kindred.  One  of 
these  was  the  son  of  that  venerable  elder  in  the  lateran,  who  rose 
to  read  the  little  notes  which  the  thanksgivers  had  handed  to  him 
at  the  door ;  and  Katie  Stewart's  eyes  filled  as  the  old  man's  slow 
voice,  somewhat  moved  by  reading  his  son's  name  just  before, 
intimated  to  the  waiting  congregation  before  him,  and  to  the 
minister  in  the  pulpit  behind,  also  waiting  to  include  all  these  in 
his  concluding  prayer,  that  William  Morison  gave  thanks  for  his 
safe  return. 

"  And  then  there  came  friendly  greetings  as  the  congregation 
streamed  out  through  the  church-yard,  and  the  soft,  hopeful  sun- 
shine of  spring  threw  down  a  bright  flickering  network  of  light 
and  shade  through  the  soft  foliage  on  the  causewayed  street ; — • 
peaceful  people  going  to  secure  and  quiet  homes — families  joy- 
fully encircling  the  fathers  or  brothers  for  whose  return  they  had 
just  rendered  thanks  out  of  full  hearts,  and  peace  upon  all  and 
over  all,  as  broad  as  the  skies  and  as  calm. 

"But  as  the  stream  of -people  pours  again  in  the  afternoon  from 
the  two  neighbour  churches,  what  is  this  gradual  excitement  which 


264  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

manifests  itself  among  them  ?  Hark  1  there  is  the  boom  of  a  gun 
plunging  into  all  the  echoes ;  and  crowds  of  mothers  and  sisters 
cling  about  these  young  sailors,  and  almost  struggle  with  them, 
to  hurry  them  home.  Who  is  that  hastening  to  the  pier,  with  his 
staff  clenched  in  his  hand,  and  his  white  '  haffit  locks'  streaming 
behind  him  ?  It  is  the  reverend  elder  who  to-day  returned  thanks 
for  his  restored  son.  The  sight  of  him — the  sound  of  that  second- 
gun  pealing  from  the  Firth  puts  the  climax  on  the  excitement  of 
the  people,  and  now,  in  a  continuous  stream  from  the  peaceful 
churchyard  gates,  they  flow  toward  the  pier  and  the  sea. 

"  Eagerly  running  along  by  the  edge  of  the  rocks,  at  a  pace 
which,  on  another  Sabbath,  she  would  have  thought  a  desecration 
of  the  day,  clinging  to  Willie  Morison's  arm,  and  with  an  anxious 
heart,  feeling  her  presence  a  kind  of  protection  to  him,  Katie 
Stewart  hastens  to  the  Billy  Ness.  The  gray  pier  of  Anster  is 
lined  with  anxious  faces,  and  here  and  there  a  levelled  telescope 
under  the  care  of  some  old  shipmaster  attracts  round  it  a  still 
deeper,  still  more  eager  knot  of  spectators.  The  tide  is  out,  and 
venturous  lads  are  stealing  along  the  sharp  low  ranges  of  rock, 
slipping  now  and  then  with  incautious  steps  into  the  little  clear 
pools  of  sea-water  which  surround  them  ;  for  their  eyes  are  not  on 
their  own  uncertain  footing,  but  fixed,  like  the  rest,  on  that  visible 
danger  up  the  Firth,  in  which  all  feel  themselves  concerned. 

"  Already  there  are  spectators,  and  another  telescope  on  the 
Billy  Ness,  and  the  whole  range  of  *  the  braes'  between  Anstru- 
ther  and  Pittenweem  is  dotted  with  anxious  lookers-on ;  and  the 
far  away  pier  of  Pittenweem,  too,  is  dark  with  its  little  crowd. 

"  What  is  the  cause  1  Not  far  from  the  shore,  just  where  that 
headland,  which  hides  you  from  the  deep  indentation  of  Largo 
Bay,  juts  out  upon  the  Firth,  lies  a  little  vessel,  looking  like  a 
diminutive  Arabian  horse,  or  one  of  the  aristocratic  young  slight 
lads  who  are  its  officers,  with  high  blood,  training,  and  courage  in 
every  tight  line  of  its  cordage  and  taper  stretch  of  its  masts. 
Before  it,  arrested  in  its  way,  lies  a  helpless  merchant  brig,  softly 
swaying  on  the  bright  mid-waters  of  the  Firth,  with  the  cutter's 
boat  rapidly  approaching  its  side. 

"  Another  moment  and  it  is  boarded ;  a  very  short  interval  of 


OF   ENGLAND.  265 

silence,  and  again  the  officer — you  can  distinguish  him  with  that 
telescope,  by  his  cocked  hat,  and  the  flash  which  the  scabbard  of 
his  sword  throws  on  the  water  as  he 'descends  the  vessel's  side — 
has  re-entered  the  cutter's  boat.  Heavily  the  boat  moves  through 
the  water  now,  crowded  with  pressed  men — poor  writhing  hearts, 
whose  hopes  of  home-coming  and  peace  have  been  blighted  in  a 
moment ;  captured,  some  of  them,  in  sight  of  their  homes,  and 
under  '.he  anxious,  straining  eyes  of  wives  and  children,  happily 
too  far  off  to  discern  their  full  calamity. 

"A  low  moan  comes  from  the  lips  of  that  poor  woman,  who, 
wringing  her  hands  and  rocking  herself  to  and  fro,  with  the  un- 
conscious movement  of  extreme  pain,  looks  pitifully  in  Willie 
Mori  son's  face,  as  he  fixes  the  telescope  on  the  scene.  She  is 
reading  the  changes  of  its  expression,  as  if  her  sentence  was 
there ;  but  he  says  nothing,  though  the  very  motion  of  his  hand, 
as  he  steadies  the  glass,  attracts,  like  something  of  occult  signifi- 
cance, the  agonized  gaze  which  dwells  upon  him. 

" '  Captain,  captain !'  she  cried  at  last,  softly  pulling  his  coaf, 
and  with  unconscious  art  using  the  new  tiUe :  *  Captain,  is't  the 
Traveller?  Can  ye  make  her  out?  She  has  a  white  figure-head 
at  her  bows,  and  twa  white  lines  round  her  side.  Captain,  cap- 
tain !  tell  me  for  pity's  sake !' 

"Another  long  keen  look  was  bent  on  the  brig,  as  slowly  and 
disconsolately  she  resumed  her  onward  way. 

46 '  No,  Peggie,'  said  the  young  sailor,  looking  round  to  meet  her 
eye,  and  to  comfort  his  companion,  who  stood  trembling  by  his 
side :  '  No,  Peggie — make  yourself  easy ;  it's  no  the  Traveller/ 

"  The  poor  woman  seated  herself  on  the  grass,  and,  supporting 
her  head  on  her  hands,  wiped  from  her  pale  cheek  tears  of  relief 
and  thankfulness. 

"  *  God  be  thanked !  and  oh !  God  pity  thae  puir  creatures,  and 
their  wives,  and  their  little  anes.  I  think  I  have  the  hardest 
heart  in  a'  the  world,  that  can  be  glad  when  there's  such  misery 
in  sight,' 

"But  dry  your  tears,  poor  Peggie  Kodger— b^^ce  up  your 
trembling  heart  again  for  another  fiery  trial;  for  here  comes 
another  white  sail  peacefully  gliding  up  the  Firth,  with  a  flag 

18 


266  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

fluttering  from  the  stern,  and  a  white  figure-head  dashing  aside 
the  spray,  which  seems  to  embrace  it  joyfully,  the  sailors  think, 
as  out  of  the  stormy  seas  it  nears  the  welcome  home.  With  a 
light  step  the  captain  walks  the  little  quarter-deck — with  light 
hearts  the  seamen  lounge  amidship,  looking  forth  on  the  green 
hills  of  Fife.  Dark  grows  the  young  sailor's  face,  as  he  watches 
the  unsuspicious  victim  glide  triumphantly  up  through  the  blue 
water  into  the  undreaded  snare;  and  a  glance  round,  a  slight 
contraction  of  those  lines  in  his  face  which  Katie  Stewart,  eagerly 
watching  him,  has  never  seen  so  strongly  marked  before,  tells  the 
poor  wife  on  the  grass  enough  to  make  her  rise  hysterically  strong, 
and  with  her  whole  might  gaze'  at  the  advancing  ship ;  for,  alas! 
one  can  doubt  its  identity  no  longer.  The  white  lines  on  its  side 
— the  white  figure-head  among  the  joyous  spray — and  the  Traveller 
dashes  on,  out  of  its  icy  prison  in  the  northern  harbour — out  of 
its  stormy  ocean  voyage — homeward  bound ! 

"  Homeward  bound !  There  is  one  yonder  turning  longing  looks 
to  Anster's  quiet  harbour  as  the  ship  sails  past ;  carefully  putting 
up  in  the  coloured  foreign  baskets  those  little  wooden  toys  which 
amused  his  leisure  during  the  long  dark  winter  among  the  ice, 
and  thinking  with  involuntary  smiles  how  his  little  ones  will  leap 
for  joy  as  he  divides  the  store.  Put  them  up,  good  seaman,  gentle 
father ! — the  little  ones  will  be  men  and  women  before  you  look 
on  them  again. 

"  For  already  the  echoes  are  startled,  and  the  women  here  on 
shore  shiver  and  wring  their  hands  as  the  cutter's  gun  rings  out 
its  mandate  to  the  passenger ;  and  looking  up  the  Firth  you  see 
nothing  but  a  floating  globe  of  white  smoke,  slowly  breaking  into 
long  streamers,  and  almost  entirely  concealing  the  fine  outline  of 
the  little  ship  of  war.  The  challenged  brig  at  first  is  doubtful — 
the  alarmed  captain  does  not  understand  the  summons ;  but  again 
another  flash,  another  report,  another  cloud  of  white  smoke,  and 
the  Traveller  is  brought  to. 

"There  are  no  tears  on  Peggie  Rodger's  haggard  cheeks,  but  a 
convulsive  shudder  passes  over  her  now  and  then,  as,  with  intense 
strained  eyes,  she  watches  the  cutter's  boat  as  it  crosses  the  Firth 
toward  the  arrested  brig. 


OF   ENGLAND.  267 

" '  God !  an'  it  were  sunk  like  lead  1'  said  a  passionate  voice 
beside  her,  trembling  -with  the  desperate  restraint  of  impotent 
strength. 

"  *  God  help  us  ! — God  help  us ! — curse  na  them/  said  the  poor 
woman  with  an  hysteric  sob.  '  Oh,  captain,  captain !  gie  me  the 
glass  ;  if  they  pit  him  in  the  boat  I'll  ken  Davie — if  naebody  else 
would,  I  can — gie  me  the  glass/ 

"  He  gave  her  the  glass,  and  himself  gladly  turned  away, 
trembling  with  the  same  suppressed  rage  and  indignation  which 
had  dictated  the  other  spectator's  curse. 

" '  If  ane  could  but  warn  them  wi'  a  word/  groaned  Willie  Mori- 
son,  grinding  his  teeth-—'  if  ane  could  but  lift  a  finger !  but  to  see 
them  gang  into  the  snare  like  innocents  in  the  broad  day — Katie, 
it's  enough  to  pit  a  man  mad !' 

"  But  Katie's  pitiful  compassionate  eyes  were  fixed  on  Peggie 
Kodger — on  her  white  hollow  cheeks,  and  on  the  convulsive  steadi- 
ness with  which  she  held  the  telescope  in  her  hand. 

"  '  It's  a  fair  wind  into  the  Firth — there's  another  brig  due. 
Katie,  I  canna  stand  and  see  this  mair !' 

"  He  drew  her  hand  through  his  arm,  and  unconsciously  grasp- 
ing it  with  a  force  which  at  another  time  would  have  made  her 
cry  with  pain,  led  her  a  little  way  back  toward  the  town.  But 
the  fascination  of  the  scene  was  too  great  for  him,  painful  as  it 
was,  and  far  away  on  the  horizon  glimmered  another  sail. 

"  '  "Willie !'  exclaimed  Katie  Stewart,  *  gar  some  of  the  Sillar- 
dyke  men  gang  out  wi;  a  boat — gar  them  row  down  by  the  coast, 
and  then  strike  out  in  the  Firth,  and  warn  the  men/ 

"He  grasped  her  hand  again,  not  so  violently.  *  Bless  you, 
lassie!  and  wha  should  do  your  bidding  but  myself?  but  take 
care  of  yourself,  Katie  Stewart.  What  care  I  for  a'  the  brigs  in 
the  world  if  any  thing  ails  you?  Gang  hame,  or' 

"  *  I'll  no  stir  a  fit  till  you're  safe  back  again.  I'll  never  speak 
to  you  mair  if  ye  say  anither  word.  Be  canny — be  canny — but 
haste  ye  away.' 

"  Another  moment,  and  Katie  Stewart  stands  alone  by  Peggie 
Rodger's  side,  watching  the  eager  face  which  seems  to  grow  old 
and  emaciated  with  this  terrible  vigil,  as  if  these  moments  were 


268  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

years  ;  while  the  ground  flies  under  the  bounding  feet  of  Willie 
Morison,  and  he  answers  the  questions  which  are  addressed  to 
him,  as  to  his  errand,  only  while  he  himself  continues  at  full 
speed  to  push  eastward  to  Cellardyke. 

"  And  the  indistinct  words  which  he  calls  back  to  his  comrades, 
as  he  '  devours  the  way/  are  enough  to  send  racing  after  him  an 
eager  train  of  coadjutors;  and  with  his  bonnet  off,  and  his  hands, 
which  tremble  as  with  palsy,  clasped  convulsively  together,  the 
white-haired  elder  leans  upon  the  wall  of  the  pier,  and  bids  God 
bless  them,  God  speed  them,  with  a  broken  voice,  whose  utterance 
comes  in  gasps  and  sobs ;  for  he  has  yet  another  son  upon  the  sea. 

"  Meanwhile  the  cutter's  boat  has  returned  from  the  Traveller 
with  its  second  load ;  and  a  kind  bystander  relieves  the  aching 
arms  of  poor  Peggie  Rodger  of  the  telescope,  in  which  now  she 
has  no  further  interest. 

"  'Gude  kens,  Gude  kens/  said  the  poor  woman  slowly,  as  Katie 
strove  to  comfort  her.  '  I  didna  see  him  in  the  boat ;  but  ane 
could  see  nothing  but  the  wet  oars  flashing  out  of  the  water,  and 
blinding  folks  e'en.  What  am  I  to  do  ?  Miss  Katie,  what  am  I 
to  think  ?  They  maun  have  left  some  men  in  the  ship  to  work 
her.  Oh !  God  grant  they  have  ta'en  the  young  men,  and  no  heads 
of  families  wi'  bairns  to  toil  for.  But  Davie's  a  buirdly  man,  just 
like  ane  to  take  an  officer's  ee.  Oh,  the  Lord  help  us !  for  I'm 
just  distraught,  and  kenna  what  to  do/ 

"  A  faint  cheer,  instantly  suppressed,  rises  from  the  point  of 
the  pier  and  the  shelving  coast  beyond ;  and  yonder  now  it  glides 
along  the  shore,  with  wet  oars  gleaming  out  of  the  dazzling  sunny 
water,  the  boat  of  the  forlorn  hope.  A  small,  picked,  chosen  com- 
pany bend  to  the  oars,  and  Willie  Morison  is  at  the  helm,  warily 
guiding  the  little  vessel  over  the  rocks,  as  they  shelter  themselves 
in  the  shadow  of  the  coast.  On  the  horizon  the  coming  sail  flut- 
ters nearer,  nearer — and  up  the  Firth  yonder  there  is  a  stir  in  the 
cutter  as  she  prepares  to  leave  her  anchor  and  strike  into  the  mid- 
waters  of  the  broad  highway  which  she  molests. 

"  The  sun  is  sinking  lower  in  the  grand  western  skies,  and  be- 
ginning to  cast  long,  cool,  dewy  shadows  of  every  headland  and 
little  promontory  over  the  whole  rocky  coast ;  but  still  the  Firth  is 


OF  ENGLAND.  269 

"burning  with  his  slanting  fervid  rays,  and  Inchkeith  far  away 
lies  like  a  cloud  upon  the  sea,  and  the  May,  near  at  hand,  lifts  its 
white  front  to  the  sun — a  Sabbath  night  as  calm  and  full  of  rest 
as  ever  natural  Sabbath  was — and  the  reverend  elder  yonder  on 
the  pier  uncovers  his  white  head  once  more,  and  groans  within 
himself,  amid  his  passionate  prayers  for  these  perilled  men  upon 
the  sea,  over  the  desecrated  Sabbath-day. 

"  Nearer  and  nearer  wears  the  sail,  fluttering  like  the  snowy 
"breast  of  some  sea-bird  in  prophetic  terror ;  and  now  far  off  the  red 
fishing-boat  strikes  boldly  forth  into  the  Firth  with  a  signal-flag 
at  its  prow. 

"  In  the  cutter  they  perceive  it  now ;  and  see  how  the  anchor 
swings  up  her  shapely  side,  and  the  snowy  sail  curls  over  the 
yards,  as  with  a  bound  she  darts  forth  from  her  lurking-place, 
and  flashing  in  the  sunshine,  like  an  eager  hound  leaps  forth  after 
her  prey. 

"  The  boat — the  boat !  With  every  gleam  of  its  oars  the  hearts 
throb  that  watch  it  on  its  way ;  with  every  bound  it  makes  there 
are  prayers — prayers  of  the  anguish  which  will  take  no  discour- 
agement— pressing  in  at  the  gates  of  heaven ;  and  the  ebbing  tide 
bears  it  out,  and  the  wind  droops  its  wings,  and  falls  becalmed 
upon  the  coast,  as  if  repenting  it  of  the  evil  service  it  did  to  those 
two  hapless  vessels  which  have  fallen  into  the  snare.  Bravely  on 
as  the  sun  grows  lower — bravely  out  as  the  fluttering  stranger 
sail  draws  nearer  and  more  near — and  but  one  other  strain  will 
bring  them  within  hail. 

"  But  as  all  eyes  follow  these  adventurers,  another  flash  from 
the  cutter's  side  glares  over  the  shining  water ;  and  as  the  smoke 
rolls  over  the  pursuing  vessel,  and  the  loud  report  again  disturbs 
all  the  hills,  Katie's  heart  grows  sick,  and  she  scarcely  dares  look 
to  the  east.  But  the  ball  has  ploughed  the  water  harmlessly,  and 
.yonder  is  the  boat  of  rescue — yonder  is  the  ship  within  hail ;  and 
some  one  stands  up  in  the  prow  of  the  forlorn  hope,  and  shouts 
and  waves  his  hand. 

"  It  is  enough.  '  There  she  goes — there  she  tacks  !'  cries  ex- 
ulting the  man  with  the  telescope,  '  and  in  half  an  hour  she'll  be 
safe  in  St.  Andrew's  Bay/ 


270  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

"  But  she  sails  slowly  back — and  slowly  sails  the  impatient 
cutter,  with  little  wind  to  swell  her  sails,  and  that  little  in  her 
face ;  while  the  fisherboat,  again  falling  close  inshore  with  a 
relay  of  fresh  men  at  the  oars,  has  the  advantage  of  them  both. 

"And  now  there  is  a  hot  pursuit — the  cutter's  boat  in  full  chase 
after  the  forlorn  hope ;  but  as  the  sun  disappears,  and  the  long 
shadows  lengthen  and  creep  along  the  creeks  and  bays  of  the 
rocky  coast  so  well  known  to  the  pursued,  so  ill  to  the  pursuer, 
the  event  of  the  race  is  soon  decided ;  and  clambering  up  the  first 
accessible  landing-place  they  can  gain,  and  leaving  their  boat  on 
the  rocks  behind  them,  the  forlorn  hope  joyously  make  their  way 
home. 

"  '  And  it's  a'  Katie's  notion  and  no  a  morsel  of  mine,'  says  the 
proud  Willie  Morison.  But  alas  for  your  stout  heart,  Willie ! — 
alas  for  the  tremulous,  startled  bird  which  beats  against  the  inno- 
cent breast  of  little  Katie  Stewart,  for  no  one  knows  what  heavy 

shadows  shall  vail  the  ending  of  this  Sabbath-day. 

•&  *  -x-  *  * 

"  The  mild  spring  night  has  darkened,  but  it  is  still  early,  and 
the  moon  is  not  yet  up.  The  worship  is  over  in  John  Stewart's 
decent  house,  and  all  is  still  within,  though  the  miller  and  his 
wife  still  sit  by  the  l  gathered'  fire,  and  talk  in  half  whispers  about 
the  events  of  the  day,  and  the  prospects  of  '  the  bairns/  It  is 
scarcely  nine  yet,  but  it  is  the  reverent  usage  of  the  family  to 
shut  out  the  world  earlier  than  usual  on  the  Sabbath ;  and  Katie, 
in  consideration  of  her  fatigue,  has  been  dismissed  to  her  little 
chamber  in  the  roof.  She  has  gone  away  not  unwillingly,  for, 
just  before,  the  miller  had  closed  the  door  on  the  slow,  reluctant, 
departing  steps  of  Willie  Morison,  and  Katie  is  fain  to  be  alone. 

"  Very  small  is  this  chamber  in  the  roof  of  the  Milton,  which 
Janet  and  Katie  used  to  share.  She  has  set  down  her  candle  on 
the  little  table  before  that  small  glass  in  the  dark  carved  frame, 
and  herself  stands  by  the  window,  which  she  has  opened,  looking 
out.  The  rush  of  the  burn  fills  the  soft  air  with  sound,  into  which 
sometimes  penetrates  a  far-off  voice,  which  proclaims  the  little 
town  still  awake  and  stirring:  but  save  the  light  from  Robert 
Moulter's  uncurtained  window — revealing  a  dark  gleaming  link 


OF   ENGLAND.  271 

of  the  burn,  before  the  cot-house  door — and  the  reddened  sky 
yonder,  reflecting  that  fierce  torch  on  the  May,  there  is  nothing 
visible  but  the  dark  line  of  fields,  and  a  few  faint  stars  in  the 
clouded  sky. 

"  But  the  houses  in  Anster  are  not  yet  closed  or  silent.  In  the 
street  which  leads  past  the  town-house  and  church  of  West  Anster 
to  the  shore,  you  can  see  a  ruddy  light  streaming  out  from  the 
window  upon  the  causeway,  the  dark  churchyard  wall,  and  over- 
hanging trees.  At  the  fire  stands  a  comely  young  woman,  lifting 
'  a  kettle  of  potatoes'  from  the  crook.  The  '  kettle'  is  a  capacious 
pot  on  three  feet,  formed  not  like  the  ordinary  '  kail-pat/  but  like 
a  little  tub  of  iron ;  and  now,  as  it  is  set  down  before  the  ruddy 
fire,  you  see  it  is  full  of  laughing  potatoes,  disclosing  themselves, 
snow-white  and  mealy,  through  the  cracks  in  their  clear  dark 
coats.  The  mother  of  the  household  sits  by  the  fireside,  with  a 
volume  of  sermons  in  her  hand ;  but  she  is  paying  but  little  at- 
tention to  the  book,  for  the  kitchen  is  full  of  young  sailors,  eagerly 
discussing  the  events  of  the  day,  and  through  the  hospitable  open 
door  others  are  entering  and  departing  with  friendly  salutations. 
Another  such  animated  company  fills  the  house  of  the  widow  Mo- 
rison,  *  aest  the  town/  for  still  the  afternoon's  excitement  has  not 
subsided. 

"  But  up  this  dark  leaf-shadowed  street,  in  which  we  stand, 
there  comes  a  muffled  tramp  as  of  stealthy  footsteps.  They  hear 
nothing  of  it  in  that  bright  warm  kitchen — fear  nothing,  as  they 
gather  round  the  fire,  and  sometimes  rise  so  loud  in  their  conver- 
sation that  the  house-mother  lifts  her  hand,  and  shakes  her  head, 
with  an  admonitory,  '  Whist  bairns ;  mind,  it's  the  Sabbath-day.' 

"  Behind  backs,  leaning  against  the  sparkling  panes  of  the  win- 
dow, young  Eobert  Davidson  speaks  aside  to  Lizzie  Tosh,  the 
daughter  of  the  house.  They  were  '  cried'  to-day  in  West  Anster 
kirk,  and  soon  will  have  a  blithe  bridal — *  If  naething  comes  in 
the  way,'  says  Lizzie,  with  her  downcast  face ;  and  the  manly 
young  sailor  answers — *  Nae  fear,* 

"  *  Nae  fear !'  But  without,  the  stealthy  steps  come  nearer ; 
and  if  you  draw  far  enough  away  from  the  open  door  to  lose  the 
merry  voices,  and  have  your  eyes  no  longer  dazzled  with  the  light, 


272  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

you  will  see  dim  figures  creeping  through  the  darkness,  and  feel 
that  the  air  is  heavy  with  the  breath  of  men.  But  few  people 
care  to  use  that  dark  road  between  the  manse  and  the  churchyard 
at  night,  so  no  one  challenges  the  advancing  party,  or  gives  the 
alarm. 

"  Lizzie  Tosh  has  stolen  to  the  door ;  it  is  to  see  if  the  moon  is 
up,  and  if  Robert  will  have  light  on  his  homeward  walk  to  Pitten- 
weem ;  but  immediately  she  rushes  in  again,  with  a  face  as  pale 
as  it  had  before  been  blooming,  and  alarms  the  assembly.  *  A 
band  of  the  cutter's  men  ; — an  officer,  with  a  sword  at  his  side. 
Bin,  lads,  rin,  afore  they  reach  the  door/ 

"But  there  is  a  keen,  eager  face,  with  a  cocked  hat  surmount- 
ing it,  already  looking  in  at  the  window.  The  assembled  sailors 
make  a  wild  plunge  at  the  door ;  and,  while  a  few  escape  under 
cover  of  the  darkness,  the  cutter's  men  have  secured,  after  a  des- 
perate resistance,  three  or  four  of  the  foremost.  Poor  fellows  I 
You  see  them  stand  without,  young  Robert  Davidson  in  the  front, 
his  broad,  bronzed  forehead  bleeding  from  a  cut  he  has  received 
in  the  scuffle,  and  one  of  his  captors,  still  more  visibly  wounded, 
looking  on  him  with  evil,  revengeful  eyes  :  his  own  eye,  poor  lad, 
is  flaming  with  fierce  indignation  and  rage,  and  his  broad  breast 
heaves  almost  convulsively.  But  now  he  catches  a  glimpse  of  the 
weeping  Lizzie,  and  fiery  tears,  which  scorch  his  eyelids,  blind 
him  for  a  moment,  and  his  heart  swells  as  if  it  would  burst.  But 
it  does  not  burst,  poor  desperate  heart !  until  the  appointed  bullet 
shall  come,  a  year  or  two  hence,  to  make  its  pulses  quiet  for 
ever. 

"A  few  of  the  gang  entered  the  house.  It  is  only  'a  but  and  a 
ben ;'  and  Lizzie  stands  with  her  back  against  the  door  of  the 
inner  apartment,  while  her  streaming  eyes  now  and  then  cast  a 
sick,  yearning  glance  toward  the  prisoners  at  the  door — for  her 
brother  stands  there  as  well  as  her  betrothed. 

"  *  What  for  would  you  seek  in  there  ?'  asked  the  mother,  lift- 
ing up  her  trembling  hands.  '  "What  would  ye  despoil  my  chau- 
mer  for,  after  ye've  made  my  hearthstane  desolate.  If  ye've  a 
license  to  steal  men,  ye've  nane  to  steal  gear.  Ye've  dune  your 
warst :  gang  out  o*  my  house  ye  thieves,  ye  locusts,  ye' 


OF  ENGLAND.  273 

" '  We'll  see  about  that,  old  lady/  said  the  leader : — *  put  the 
girl  away  from  that  door.  Tom,  bring  the  lantern/ 

"  The  little  humble  room  was  neatly  arranged.  It  was  their 
best,  and  they  had  not  spared  upon  it  what  ornament  they  could 
attain.  Shells  far  travelled,  precious  for  the  giver's  sake,  and 
many  other  heterogeneous  trifles,  such  as  sailors  pick  up  in  fo- 
reign parts,  were  arranged  upon  the  little  mantel-piece  and  grate. 
There  was  no  nook  or  corner  in  it  which  could  possibly  be  used 
for  a  hiding-place ;  but  the  experienced  eye  of  the  foremost  man 
saw  the  homely  counterpane  disordered  on  the  bed ;  and  there 
indeed  the  mother  had  hid  her  youngest,  dearest  son.  She  had 
scarcely  a  minute's  time  to  drag  him  in,  to  prevail  upon  him  to 
let  her  conceal  him  under  her  feather-bed,  and  all  its  comfortable 
coverings.  But  the  mother's  pains  were  unavailing,  and  now 
she  stood  by,  and  looked  on  with  a  suppressed  scream,  while  that 
heavy  blow  struck  down  her  boy  as  he  struggled — her  youngest, 
fair-haired,  hopeful  boy. 

"  Calm  thoughts  are  in  your  heart,  Katie  Stewart — dreams  of 
sailing  over  silver  seas  under  that  moon  which  begins  to  rise, 
slowly  climbing  through  the  clouds  yonder,  on  the  south  side  of 
the  Firth.  In  fancy,  already,  you  watch  the  soft  Mediterranean 
waves  rippling  past  the  side  of  the  Flower  of  Fife,  and  see  the 
strange  beautiful  countries  of  which  your  bridegroom  has  told 
you  shining  under  the  brilliant  southern  sun.  And  then  the 
home-coming — the  curious  toys  you  will  gather  yonder  for  the 
sisters  and  the  mother ;  the  pride  you  will  have  in  telling  them 
how  Willie  has  cared  for  your  voyage — how  wisely  he  rules  the 
one  Flower  of  Fife,  how  tenderly  he  guards  the  other. 

"  Your  heart  is  touched,  Katie  Stewart,  touched  with  the  calm 
and  pathos  of  great  joy  ;  and  tears  lie  under  your  eyelashes,  like 
the  dew  on  flowers.  Clasp  your  white  hands  on  the  sill  of  the 
window — heed  not  that  your  knees  are  unbended — and  say  your 
child's  prayers  with  lips  which  move  but  utter  nothing  audible, 
and  with  your  head  bowed  on  the  moonbeam,  which  steals  into 
your  window  like  a  bird.  True,  you  have  said  these  child's 
prayers  many  a  night,  as  in  some  sort  a  charm,  to  guarc^you  as 
you  slept ;  but  now  there  comes  upon  your  spirit  an  awe  of  the 


274  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

great  Father  yonder,  a  dim  and  wonderful  apprehension  of  the 
mysterious  Son  in  whose  name  you  make  those  prayers.  Is  it 
true,  then,  that  he  thinks  of  all  our  loves  and  sorrows,  this  One, 
whose  visible  form  realizes  to  us  the  dim,  grand,  glorious  heaven 
— knows  us  by  name — remembers  us  with  the  God's  love  in  his 
wonderful  human  heart ; — us,  scattered  by  myriads  over  his  earth, 
like  the  motes  in  the  sunbeam  ?  And  the  tears  steal  over  your 
cheeks,  as  you  end  the  child's  prayer  with  the  name  that  is  above 
all  names. 

"  Now,  will  you  rest?  But  the  moon  has  mastered  all  her  hilly 
way  of  clouds,  and  from  the  full  sky  looks  down  on  you,  Katie, 
with  eyes  of  pensive  blessedness  like  your  own.  Tarry  a  little — 
linger  to  watch  that  one  bright  spot  on  the  Firth,  where  you  could 
almost  count  the  silvered  waves  as  they  lie  beneath  the  light. 

"  But  a  rude  sounds  breaks  upon  the  stillness — a  sound  of  flying 
feet  echoing  over  the  quiet  road ;  and  now  they  become  visible — 
one  figure  in  advance,  and  a  band  of  pursuers  behind — the  same 
brave  heart  which  spent  its  strength  to-day  to  warn  the  uncon- 
scious ship — the  same  strong  form  which  Katie  has  seen  in  her 
dreams  on  the  quarter-deck  of  the  Flower  of  Fife ; — but  he  will 
never  reach  that  quarter-deck,  Katie  Stewart,  for  his  strength 
flags,  and  they  gain  upon  him. 

"  Gain  upon  him,  step  by  step,  unpitying  bloodhounds ! — see 
him  lift  up  his  hands  to  you,  at  your  window,  and  have  no  ruth 
for  his  young  hope,  or  yours ; — and  now  their  hands  are  on  his 
shoulder,  and  he  is  in  their  power. 

"  *  Katie !'  cries  the  hoarse  voice  of  Willie  Morison,  breaking 
the  strange  fascination  in  which  she  stood,  '  come  down  and  speak 
to  me  ae  word,  if  ye  wouldna  break  my  heart.  Man — if  ye  are  a 
man — let  me  bide  a  minute ;  let  me  say  a  word  to  her.  Til  maybe 
never  see  her  in  this  world  again.' 

"  The  miller  stood  at  the  open  door — the  mother  within  was 
wiping  the  tears  from  her  cheeks.  '  Oh  Katie,  bairn,  that  ye  had 
been  sleeping!'  But  Katie  rushed  past  them,  and  crossed  the 
b  urn. 

"Wkat  can  they  say? — only  convulsively  grasp  each  other's 
hands — wofully  look  into  each  other's  faces,  ghastly  in  the  moon- 


OF   ENGLAND.  275 

light ;  till  Willie — Willie,  who  could  have  carried  her  like  a  child, 
in  his  strength  of  manhood — bowed  down  his  head  into  those 
little  hands  of  hers  which  are  lost  in  his  own  vehement  grasp, 
and  hides  with  them  his  passionate  tears. 

"  *  Willie,  Fll  never  forget  ye/  says  aloud  the  instinctive  im- 
pulse of  little  Katie's  heart,  forgetting  for  the  moment  that  there 
is  any  grief  in  the  world  but  to  see  his.  *  Night  and  day  'Fll 
mind  ye,  think  of  ye.  If  ye  were  twenty  years  away,  I  would  be 
blither  to  wait  for  ye,  than  to  be  a  queen.  Willie,  if  ye  must  go, 
go  with  a  stout  heart — for  I'll  never  forget  ye,  if  it  should  be 
twenty  years !' 

"  Twenty  years !  Only  eighteen  have  you  been  in  the  world 
yet,  brave  little  Katie  Stewart ;  and  you  know  not  the  years,  how 
they  drag  their  drooping  skirts  over  the  hills  when  hearts  long 
for  their  ending,  or  how  it  is  only  day  by  day,  hour  by  hour,  that 
they  wear  out  at  length,  and  fade  into  the  past. 

" '  Now,  my  man,  let's  have  no  more  of  this/  said  the  leader  of 
the  gang.  *  I'm  not  here  to  wait  your  leisure ;  come  on. 

"And  now  they  are  away — truly  away — and  the  darkness  settles 
down  where  this  moment  Katie  saw  her  bridegroom's  head  bow- 
ing over  the  hands  which  still  are  wet  with  his  tears.  Twenty 
years !  Her  own  words  ring  into  her  heart  like  a  knejl,  a  pro- 
phecy of  evil — if  he  should  be  twenty  years  away  P; 

There  is  no  exaggeration  in  the  above  narrative. 
Similar  scenes  have  occurred  on  many  occasions,  and 
others  of  equally  affecting  character  might  be  gathered 
from  British  sailors  themselves.  In  the  story  of  "  Katie 
Stewart,"  ten  years  elapse  before  Willie  Morison  is 
permitted  to  return  to  his  betrothed.  In  many  cases 
the  pressed  seamen  never  catch  a  glimpse  of  home  or 
friends  again.  Sometimes  decoys  and  stratagems  are 
used  to  press  the  seamen  into  the  service  of  the  govern* 
ment.  Such  extensive  powers  are  intrusted  to  the 


276  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

officers  of  men-of-war,  that  they  may  be  guilty  of 
the  grossest  violations  of  right  and  justice  with  impu- 
nity, and  even  those  "  protections' '  which  the  govern- 
ment extends  to  certain  persons,  are  frequently  of  no 
effect  whatever.  In  the  novel  of  "Jacob  Faithful," 
Captain  Marryatt  has  given  a  fine  illustration  of  the 
practice  of  some  officers.  The  impressment  of  Jacob 
and  Thomas  the  waterman,  is  told  with  Marryatt's 
usual  spirit.  Here  it  is : — 

"  '  I  say,  you  watermen,  have  you  a  mind  for  a  good  fare  V  cried 
a  dark-looking,  not  over  clean,  square  built,  short  young  man, 
standing  on  the  top  of  the  flight  of  steps. 

"'  Where  to,  sir?' 

" '  Gravesend,  my  jokers,  if  you  a'n't  afraid  of  salt  water/ 

"  *  That's  a  long  way,  sir !;  replied  Tom,  '  and  for  salt  water  we 
must  have  salt  to  our  porridge/ 

"  *  So  you  shall,  my  lads,  and  a  glass  of  grog  into  the  bargain/ 

" '  Yes,  but  the  bargain  a' n't  made  yet,  sir.   Jacob,  will  you  go?' 

"  '  Yes,  but  not  under  a  guinea/ 

"  *  Not  under  two  guineas,'  replied  Tom,  aside. 

"  '  Are  you  in  a  great  hurry,  sir?'  continued  he,  addressing  the 
young  man.  . 

"  '  Yes,  in  a  devil  of  a  hurry ;  I  shall  lose  my  ship.  What  will 
you  take  me  for  ?' 

"  *  Two  guineas,  sir/ 

"  '  Very  well.  Just  come  up  to  the  public-house  here,  and  put 
in  my  traps/ 

"We  had  brought  down  his  luggage,  put  it  into  the  wherry  and 
started  down  the  river  with  the  tide.  Our  fare  was  very  commu- 
nicative, and  we  found  out  that  he  was  master's  mate  of  the  Im- 
mortalite",  forty-gun  frigate,  lying  off  Gravesend,  which  was  to 
drop  down  the  next  morning,  and  wait  for  sailing  orders  at  the 
Downs.  We  carried  the  tide  with  us,  and  in  the  afternoon  were 


OP   ENGLAND.  277 

close  to  the  frigate,  whose  blue  ensign  waved  proudly  over  the 
taffrail.  There  was  a  considerable  sea  arising  from  the  wind 
meeting  the  tide,  and  before  we  arrived  close  to  her,  we  had 
shipped  a  great  deal  of  water  ;  and  when  we  were  alongside,  the 
wherry,  with  the  chest  in  her  bows,  pitched  so  heavily,  that  we  were 
afraid  of  being  swamped.  Just  as  a  rope  had  been  made  fast  to 
the  chest,  and  they  were  weighing  it  out  of  the  wherry,  the  ship's 
launch  with  water  came  alongside,  and  whether  from  accident  or 
wilfully  I  know  not,  although  I  suspect  the  latter,  the  midship- 
man who  steered  her,  shot  her  against  the  wherry,  which  was 
crushed  in,  and  immediately  filled,  leaving  Tom  and  me  in  the 
water,  and  in  danger  of  being  jammed  to  death  between  the 
launch  and  the  side  of  the  frigate.  The  seamen  in  the  boat, 
however,  forced  her  off  with  their  oars,  and  hauled  us  in,  while 
our  wherry  sank  with  her  gunnel  even  with  the  water's  edge,  and 
floated  away  astern. 

"  As  soon  as  we  had  shaken  oujrselves  a  little,  we  went  up  the  side 
and  asked  one  of  the  officers  to  send  a  boat  to  pick  up  our  wherry. 

"  *  Speak  to  the  first  lieutenant  —  there  he  is/  was  the  reply. 

"  I  went  up  to  the  person  pointed  out  to  me  :  'If  you  please 


"  *  What  the  devil  do  you  want  V 

"  '  A  boat,  sir,  to'  - 

"  '  A  boat  !  the  devil  you  do  1' 
-  "  *  To  pick  up  our  wherry,  sir,'  interrupted  Tom. 

"  '  Pick  it  up  yourself/  said  the  first  lieutenant,  passing  us  and 
hailing  the  men  aloft.  '  Maintop  there,  hook  on  your  stay.  Be 
smart.  Lower  away  the  yards.  Marines  and  afterguard,  clear 
launch.  Boatswain's-mate/ 

"  *  Here,  sir/ 

"  '  Pipe  marines  and  afterguard  to  clear  launch/ 

"<Ay,  ay,  sir/ 

"  '  But  we  shall  lose  our  boat,  Jacob/  said  Tom,  to  me.  '  They 
stove  it  in,  and  they  ought  to  pick  it  up/  Tom  then  went  up  to 
the  master'  s-mate,  whom  we  had  brought  on  board,  and  explained 
our  difficulty. 

"  *  Upon  my  soul,  I  dar  Vt  say  a  word.    I'm  in  a  scrape  for 
M 


278  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

breaking  my  leave.  Why  the  devil  didn't  you  take  care  of  your 
wherry,  and  haul  ahead  when  you  saw  the  launch  coming.' 

"  *  How  could  we  when  the  chest  was  hoisting  out?' 

"  '  Very  true.  Well,  Fm  very  sorry  for  you,  but  I  must  look 
after  my  chest/  So  saying,  he  disappeared  down  the  gangway 
ladder. 

" '  I'll  try  it  again,  any  how,'  said  Tom,  going  up  to  the  first 
lieutenant.  '  Hard  case  to  lose  our  boat  and  our  bread,  sir,'  said 
Tom,  touching  his  hat. 

"The  first  lieutenant,  now  that  the  marines  and  afterguard 
were  at  a  regular  stamp  and  go,  had,  unfortunately,  more  leisure 
to  attend  to  us.  He  looked  at  us  earnestly,  and  walked  aft  to 
see  if  the  wherry  was  yet  in  sight.  At  that  moment  up  came  the 
master's-mate  who  had  not  yet  reported  himself  to  the  first  lieu- 
tenant. 

"  '  Tom,'  said  I,  '  there's  a  wherry  close  to ;  let  us  get  into  it, 
and  go  after  our  boat  ourselves.' 

"  *  Wait  one  moment  to  see  if  they  will  help  us — and  get  our 
money,  at  all  events,'  replied  Tom  ;  and  we  walked  aft. 

" '  Come  on  board,  sir,'  said  the  master's  mate,  touching  his 
hat  with  humility. 

" '  You've  broke  your  leave,  sir/  replied  the  first  lieutenant, 
'  and  now  I've  to  send  a  boat  to  pick  up  the  wherry  through  your 
carelessness.' 

"  *  If  you  please,  they  are  two  very  fine  young  men,'  observed 
the  mate.  *  Make  capital  foretop-men.  Boat's  not  worth  sending 
for,  sir.' 

"  This  hint,  given  by  the  mate  to  the  first  lieutenant,  to  regain 
his  favour,  was  not  lost.  '  Who  are  you,  my  lads  ?'  said  the  first 
lieutenant  to  us. 

"  *  Watermen,  sir.' 

"  *  Watermen,  hey !  was  that  your  own  boat?' 

"  *  No,  sir,'  replied  I,  '  it  belonged  to  the  man  that  I  serve  with/ 

"  *  Oh !  not  your  own  boat  ?     Are  you  an  apprentice  then  ?' 

"  '  Yes,  sir,  both  apprentices.' 

"  '  Show  me  your  indentures.' 

"  *  We  don't  carry  them  about  with  us.' 


OF  ENGLAND.  279 

" '  Then  how  am  I  to  know  that  you  are  apprentices  ?' 

"  s  We  can  prove  it,  sir,  if  you  wish  it.' 

" '  I  do  wish  it ;  at  all  events,  the  captain  will  wish  it/ 

"'  Will  you  please  to  send  for  the  boat,  sir?  she's  almost  out 
of  sight/ 

"  '  No,  my  lads,  I  can't  find  king's  boats  for  such  service/ 

" '  Then,  we  had  better  go  ourselves,  Tom/  said  I,  and  we  went 
forward  to  call  the  waterman  who  was  lying  on  his  oars  close  to 
the  frigate. 

"  l  Stop — stop — not  so  fast.    Where  are  you  going,  my  lads  V 

"  '  To  pick  up  our  boat,  sir/ 

"  '  Without  my  leave,  hoy  1' 

"  '  We  don't  belong  to  the  frigate,  sir/ 

"  '  No ;  but  I  think  it  very  likely  that  you  will,  for  you  have 
no  protections/ 

"  '  We  can  send  for  them  and  have  them  down  by  to-morrow 
morning/ 

"'Well,  you  may  do  so,  if  you  please,  my  lads;  you  cannot 
expect  me  to  believe  every  thing  that  is  told  me.  Now,  for  in- 
stance, how  long  have  you  to  serve,  my  lad  ?'  said  he,  addressing 
Tom. 

"  *  My  time  is  up  to-morrow,  sir/ 

"  '  Up  to-morrow.  Why,  then,  I  shall  detain  you  until  to-mor- 
row, and  then  I  shall  press  you/ 

"  '  If  you  detain  me  now,  sir,  I  am  pressed  to-day/ 

"  '  Oh  no  !  you  are  only  detained  until  you  prove  your  appren- 
ticeship, that's  all/ 

"  *  Nay,  sir,  I  certainly  am  pressed  during  my  apprenticeship/ 

"  '  Not  at  all,  and  I'll  prove  it  to  you.  You  don't  belong  to  the 
ship  until  you  are  victualled  on  her  books.  Now,  I  sha'n't  victual 
you  to-day,  and  therefore,  you  won't  be  pressed.' 

"  '  I  shall  be  pressed  with  hunger,  at  all  events,'  replied  Tom, 
who  never  could  lose  a  joke. 

"  '  No,  you  sha'n't ;  for  I'll  send  you  both  a  good  dinner  out  of 
the  gun-room,  so  you  won't  be  pressed  at  all/  replied  the  lieu- 
tenant, laughing  at  Tom's  reply. 

"  You  will  allow  me  to  go,  sir,  at  all  events/  replied  I;  'fur  I 


280  THE  WHITE)   SLAVES 

knew  that  the  only  chance  of  getting  Tom  and  myself  clear  was 
by  hastening  to  Mr.  Drummond  for  assistance. 

"  '  Pooh !  nonsense ;  you  must  both  row  in  the  same  boat  as 
you  have  done.  The  fact  is,  my  lads,  Fve  taken  a  great  fancy  to 
you  both,  and  I  can't  make  up  my  mind  to  part  with  you/ 

"  f  It's  hard  to  lose  our  bread,  this  way/  replied  I. 

" '  We  will  find  you  bread,  and  hard  enough  you  will  find  it/ 
replied  the  lieutenant,  laughing;  *  it's  like  a  flint.7 

"'So  we  ask  for  bread,  and  you  give  us  a  stone/  said  Tom; 
*  that's  'gainst  Scripture/ 

"  '  Very  true,  my  lad ;  but  the  fact  is,  all  the  scriptures  in  the 
world  won't  man  the  frigate.  Men  we  must  have,  and  get  them 
how  we  can,  and  where  we  can,  and  when  we  can.  Necessity  has 
no  law ;  at  least  it  obliges  us  to  break  through  all  laws.  After  all, 
there's  no  great  hardship  in  serving  the  king  for  a  year  or  two,  and 
filling  your  pockets  with  prize-money.  Suppose  you  volunteer  ?' 

"  *  Will  you  allow  us  to  go  on  shore  for  half  an  hour  to  think 
about  it?'  replied  I. 

"  '  No ;  I'm  afraid  of  the  crimps  dissuading  you.  But,  I'll  give 
you  till  to-morrow  morning,  and  then  I  shall  be  sure  of  one,  at 
all  events/ 

" '  Thanky,  for  me/  replied  Tom. 

"  '  You're  very  welcome/  replied  the  first  lieutenant,  as,  laugh- 
ing at  us,  he  went  down  the  companion  ladder  to  his  dinner. 

" l  Well,  Jacob,  we  are  in  for  it/  said  Tom,  as  soon  as  we  were 
alone.  '  Depend  upon  it,  there's  no  mistake  this  time/ 

" '  Fm  afraid  not/  replied  I,  '  unless  we  can  get  a  letter  to  your 
father,  or  Mr.  Drummond,  who,  I  am  sure,  would  help  us.  But 
that  dirty  fellow,  who  gave  the  first  lieutenant  the  hint,  said  the 
frigate  sailed  to-morrow  morning ;  there  he  is,  let  us  speak  to 
him/ 

"  '  When  does  the  frigate  sail  ?'  said  Tom  to  the  masters-mate, 
who  was  walking  the  deck. 

" '  My  good  fellow,  it's  not  the  custom  on  board  of  a  man-of- 
war  for  men  to  ask  officers  to  answer  such  impertinent  questions. 
It's  quite  sufficient  for  you  to  know  that  when  the  frigate  sails, 
you  will  have  the  honour  of  sailing  in  her/ 


OF  ENGLAND.  281 

" '  Well,  sir/  replied  I,  nettled  at  his  answer,  '  at  all  events, 
you  will  have  the  goodness  to  pay  us  our  fare.  We  have  lost  our 
wherry,  and  our  liberty,  perhaps,  through  you  ;  we  may  as  well 
have  our  two  guineas.' 

"  *  Two  guineas !  It's  two  guineas  you  want,  heh  ?' 

"  '  Yes,  sir,  that  was  the  fare  agreed  upon.' 

" '  Why,  you  must  observe,  my  men/  said  the  master's-mate, 
hooking  a  thumb  into  each  arm-hole  of  his  waistcoat,  '  there  must 
be  a  little  explanation  as  to  that  affair.  I  promised  you  two 
guineas  as  watermen ;  but  now  that  you  belong  to  a  man-of-war, 
you  are  no  longer  watermen.  I  always  pay  my  debts  honourably 
when  I  can  find  the  lawful  creditors  ;  but  where  are  the  water- 
men?' 

"  *  Here  we  are,  sir.' 

"  '  No,  my  lads,  you  are  men-of-war's  men  now,  and  that  quite 
alters  the  case." 

"  'But  we  are  not  so  yet,  sir:  even  if  it  did  alter  the  case,  we 
are  not  pressed  yet.' 

"  *  Well,  then,  you  will  be  to-morrow,  perhaps ;  at  all  events 
we  shall  see.  If  you  are  allowed  to  go  on  shore  again,  I  owe 
you  two  guineas  as  watermen ;  and  if  you  are  detained  as  men- 
of-war's  men,  why  then  you  will  only  have  done  your  duty  in  pull- 
ing down  one  of  your  officers.  You  see,  my  lads,  I  say  nothing 
but  what's  fair.' 

"  '  Well,  sir,  but  when  you  hired  us,  we  were  watermen,'  replied 
Tom. 

"  '  Very  true,  so  you  were ;  but  recollect  the  two  guineas  were 
not  due  until  you  had  completed  your  task,  which  was  not  until 
you  came  on  board.  When  you  came  on  board  you  were  pressed 
and  became  men-of-war's  men.  You  should  have  asked  for  your 
fare  before  the  first  lieutenant  got  hold  of  you.  Don't  you  per- 
ceive the  justice  of  rily  remarks  ?' 

"  t  Can't  say  I  do,  sir  ;  but  I  perceive  that  there  is  very  little 
chance  of  our  being  paid,'  said  Tom. 

"  *  You  are  a  lad  of  discrimination/  replied  the  master's-mate ; 
'and  now  I  advise  you  to  drop  the  subject,  or  you  may  induce 
me  to  pay  you  man-of-war  fashion/ 


282  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

"'  How's  that,  sir?' 

"  '  Over  the  face  and  eyes,  as  the  cat  paid  the  monkey/  replied 
the  master's-mate,  walking  leisurely  away. 

"  No  go,  Tom,'  said  I,  smiling  at  the  absurdity  of  the  argu- 
ments. 

"  *  I'm  afraid  it's  no  yo,  in  every  way,  Jacob.  However,  I  don't 
care  much  about  it.  I  have  had  a  little  hankering  after  seeing 
the  world,  and  perhaps  now's  as  well  as  any  other  time ;  but  I'm 
sorry  for  you,  Jacob.' 

"  '  It's  all  my  own  fault,'  replied  I ;  and  I  fell  into  one  of  those 
reveries  so  often  indulged  in  of  late  as  to  the  folly  of  my  conduct 
in  asserting  my  independence,  which  had  now  ended  in  my  losing 
my  liberty.  But  we  were  cold  from  the  ducking  we  had  received, 
and  moreover  very  hungry.  The  first  lieutenant  did  not  forget 
his  promise :  he  sent  us  up  a  good  dinner,  and  a  glass  of  grog 
each,  which  we  discussed  under  the  half-deck  between  two  of  the 
guns.  We  had  some  money  in  our  pockets,  and  we  purchased 
Borne  sheets  of  paper  from  the  bumboat  people,  who  were  on  the 
main-deck  supplying  the  seamen ;  and  I  wrote  to  Mr.  Drummond 
and  Mr.  Turnbull,  as  well  as  to  Mary  and  old  Tom,  requesting 
the  two  latter  to  forward  our  clothes  to  Deal,  in  case  of  our  being 
detained.  Tom  also  wrote  to  comfort  his  mother,  and  the  great- 
est comfort  he  could  give  was,  as  he  said,  to  promise  to  keep 
sober.  Having  intrusted  these  letters  to  the  bumboat  women, 
who  promised  faithfully  to  put  them  into  the  post-office,  we  had 
then  nothing  else  to  do  but  to  look  out  for  some  place  to  sleep. 
Our  clothes  had  dried  on  us,  and  we  were  walking  under  the  half- 
deck,  but  not  a  soul  spoke  to,  or  even  took  the  least  notice  of  us. 
In  a  newly  manned  ship,  just  ready  to  sail,  there  is  a  universal 
feeling  of  selfishness  prevailing  among  the  ship's  company.  Some, 
if  not  most,  had,  like  us,  been  pressed,  and  their  thoughts  were 
occupied  with  their  situation,  and  the  change  in  their  prospects. 
Others  were  busy  making  their  little  arrangements  with  their 
wives  or  relations  ;  while  the  mass  of  the  seamen,  not  yet  organ- 
ized by  discipline,  or  known  to  each  other,  were  in  a  state  of  dis- 
union and  individuality,  which  naturally  induced  every  man  to 
look  after  himself,  without  caring  for  his  neighbour.  "We  there 


OF  ENGLAND. 

fore  could  not  expect,  nor  did  we  receive  any  sympathy ;  we  were 
in  a  scene  of  bustle  and  noise,  yet  alone.  A  spare  topsail,  which 
had  been  stowed  for  the  present  between  two  of  the  guns,  was 
the  best  accommodation  which  offered  itself.  We  took  possession 
of  it,  and,  tired  with  exertion  of  mind  and  body,  were  soon  fast 
asleep.1' 

In  the  mean  time,  doubtless,  there  was  weeping  and 
wailing  at  the  homes  of  the  pressed  seamen.  Parents, 
tottering  on  the  verge  of  the  grave,  and  deprived  of 
their  natural  support — wives  and  children  at  the  fire- 
side, uncheered  by  the  presence  of  the  head  of  the 
family — could  only  weep  for  the  absent  ones,  and  pray 
that  their  government  might  one  day  cease  to  be  tyran- 
nical. 


284  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 


CHAPTER  VII. 

IRISH    SLAVERY. 

FOR  centuries  the  Irish  nation  has  groaned  under 
the  yoke  of  England.  The  chain  has  worn  to  the 
bone.  The  nation  has  felt  its  strength  depart.  Many 
of  its  noblest  and  fairest  children  have  pined  away  in 
dungeons  or  starved  by  the  roadside.  The  tillers  of 
the  soil,  sweating  from  sunrise  to  sunset  for  a  bare 
subsistence,  have  been  turned  from  their  miserable 
cabins — hovels,  yet  homes — and  those  who  have  been 
allowed  to  remain  have  had  their  substance  devoured 
by  a  government  seemingly  never  satisfied  with  the 
extent  of  its  taxation.  They  have  suffered  unmitigated 
persecution  for  daring  to  have  a  religion  of  their  own. 
Seldom  has  a  conquered  people  suffered  more  from  the 
cruelties  and  exactions  of  the  conquerors.  While 
Clarkson  and  Wilberforce  were  giving  their  untiring 
labours  to  the  cause  of  emancipating  negro  slaves 
thousands  of  miles  away,  they  overlooked  a  hideous 
system  of  slavery  at  their  very  doors — the  slavery  of  a 
people  capable  of  enjoying  the  highest  degree  of  civil 
and  religious  freedom.  Says  William  Howitt — 


;">'W\   >  ;  ";-V^:.:V-Vi,;   ;   '   .--r^W   .'*"' 

<::i  ;:v,,  fi:^^^^paB^- 


IRISH   TENANT  ABOUT  TO   EMIGRATE. 


OF   ENGLAND.  285 

"  The  great  grievance  of  Ireland — the  Monster  Grievance — is 
just  England  itself.  The  curse  of  Ireland  is  bad  government, 
and  nothing  more.  And  who  is  the  cause  of  this  ?  Nobody  but 
England.  Who  made  Ireland  a  conquered  country  ?  England. 
Who  introduced  all  the  elements  of  wrangling,  discontent,  and 
injustice?  England.  Who  set  two  hostile  churches,  and  two 
hostile  races,  Celts  and  Saxons,  together  by  the  ears  in  that  coun- 
try ?  England,  of  course.  Her  massacres,  her  military  planta- 
tions, her  violent  seizure  of  ancient  estates,  her  favouritism,  her 
monstrous  laws  and  modes  of  government,  were  the  modern 
emptying  of  Pandora's  box — the  shaking  out  of  a  bag-full  of 
Kilkenny  cats  on  the  soil  of  that  devoted  country.  The  conse 
quences  are  exactly  those  that  we  have  before  us.  Wretched 
Saxon  landlords,  who  have  left  one-fourth  of  the  country  uncul- 
tivated, and  squeezed  the  population  to  death  by  extortion  on  the 
rest.  A  great  useless  church  maintained  on  the  property  of  the 
ejected  Catholics — who  do  as  men  are  sure  to  do,  kick  at  robbery, 
and  feel  it  daily  making  their  gall  doubly  bitter.  And  then  we 
shake  our  heads  and  sagely  talk  about  race.  If  the  race  be  bad, 
why  have  we  not  taken  pains  to  improve  it  ?  Why,  for  scores  of 
years,  did  we  forbid  them  even  to  be  educated  ?  Why  do  we 
complain  of  their  being  idle  and  improvident,  and  helpless,  when 
we  have  done  every  thing  we  could  to  make  them  so  ?  Are  our 
ministers  and  Parliaments  any  better?  Are  they  not  just  as  idle, 
and  improvident,  and  helpless,  as  it  regards  Ireland  ?  Has  not 
this  evil  been  growing  these  three  hundred  years?  Have  any 
remedies  been  applied  but  those  of  Elizabeth,  and  the  Stuarts 
and  Straffords,  the  Cromwells,  and  Dutch  William's  ?  Arms  and 
extermination  ?  We  have  built  barracks  instead  of  schools ;  we 
have  sown  gunpowder  instead  of  corn — and  now  we  wonder  at 
the  people  and  the  crops.  The  wisest  and  best  of  men  have  for 
ages  been  crying  out  for  reform  and  improvement  in  Ireland, 
and  all  that  we  have  done  has  been  to  augment  the  army  and  the 
police." 

The  condition  of  the  Irish  peasantry  has  long  been 

most  miserable.     Untiring  toil  for  the  lords  of  the  soil 

M* 


286  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

gives  the  labourers  only  such,  a  living  as  an  American 
slave  would  despise.  Hovels  fit  for  pig-styes — rags 
for  clothing — potatoes  for  food — are  the  fruits  of  the 
labour  of  these  poor  wretches.  A  vast  majority  of 
them  are  attached  to  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  yet 
they  are  compelled  to  pay  a  heavy  tax  for  the  support 
of  the  Established  Church.  This,  and  other  exactions, 
eat  up  their  little  substance,  and  prevent  them  from 
acquiring  any  considerable  property.  Their  poor 
homes  are  merely  held  by  the  sufferance  of  grasping 
agents  for  landlords,  and  they  are  compelled  to  submit 
to  any  terms  he  may  prescribe  or  become  wandering 
beggars,  which  alternative  is  more  terrible  to  many  of 
them  than  the  whip  would  be. 

O'Connell,  the  indomitable  advocate  of  his  oppressed 
countrymen,  used  the  following  language  in  his  repeal 
declaration  of  July  27,  1841  :— 

"  It  ought  to  sink  deep  into  the  minds  of  the  English  aristocra- 
cy, that  no  people  on  the  face  of  the  earth  pay  to  another  such  a 
tribute  for  permission  to  live,  as  Ireland  pays  to  England  in 
absentee  rents  and  surplus  revenues.  There  is  no  such  instance ; 
there  is  nothing  like  it  in  ancient  or  modern  history.  There  is 
not,  and  there  never  was,  such  an  exhausting  process  applied  to 
any  country  as  is  thus  applied  to  Ireland.  It  is  a  solecism  in 
political  economy,  inflicted  upon  Ireland  alone,  of  all  the  nations 
that  are  or  ever  were." 

Surely  it  is  slavery  to  pay  such  a  price  for  a  misera- 
ble existence.  We  cannot  so  abuse  terms  as  to  call  a 
people  situated  as  the  Irish  are,  free.  They  are  com- 


OF   ENGLAND.  287 

pelled  to  labour  constantly  without  receiving  an  ap- 
proach to  adequate  compensation,  and  they  have  no 
means  of  escape  except  by  sundering  the  ties  of  home, 
kindred,  and  country. 

The  various  repulsive  features  of  the  Irish  system 
can  be  illustrated  much  more  fully  than  our  limits  will 
permit.  But  we  will  proceed  to  a  certain  extent,  as  it 
is  in  Ireland  that  the  results  of  British  tyranny  have 
been  most  frightfully  manifested. 

The  population  of  Ireland  is  chiefly  agricultural,  yet 
there  are  no  agricultural  labourers  in  the  sense  in 
which  that  term  is  employed  in  Great  Britain.  A 
peasant  living  entirely  by  hire,  without  land,  is  wholly 
unknown. 

The  persons  who  till  the  ground  may  be  divided  into 
three  classes,  which  are  sometimes  distinguished  by  the 
names  of  small  farmers,  cottiers,  and  casual  labourers  ; 
or,  as  the  last  are  sometimes  called,  "con-acre"  men. 

The  class  of  small  farmers  includes  those  who  hold 
from  five  to  twelve  Irish  acres.  The  cottiers  are  those 
who  hold  about  two  acres,  in  return  for  which  they 
labour  for  the  farmer  of  twenty  acres  or  more,  or  for 
the  gentry. 

Con-acre  is  ground  hired,  not  by  the  year,  but  for  a 
single  crop,  usually  of  potatoes.  The  tenant  of  con- 
acre receives  the  land  in  time  to  plant  potatoes,  and 
surrenders  it  so  soon  as  the  crop  has  been  secured. 
The  farmer  from  whom  he  receives  it  usually  ploughs 


288  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

and  manures  the  land,  and  sometimes  carts  the  crop. 
Con-acre  is  taken  by  tradesmen,  small  farmers,  and 
cottiers,  but  chiefly  by  labourers,  who  are,  in  addition, 
always  ready  to  work  for  hire  when  there  is  employ- 
ment for  them.  It  is  usually  let  in  roods,  and  other 
small  quantities,  rarely  exceeding  half  an  acre.  These 
three  classes,  not  very  distinct  from  each  other,  form 
the  mass  of  the  Irish  population. 

"  According  to  the  census  of  1831,"  says  Mr.  Bicheno,  "  the 
population  of  Ireland  was  7,767,401 ;  the  '  occupiers  employing 
labourers'  were  95,339 ;  the  '  labourers  employed  in  agricul- 
ture/ (who  do  not  exist  in  Ireland  as  a  class  corresponding  to 
that  in  England,)  and  the  *  occupiers  not  employing  labourers/ 
amounted  together  to  1,131,715.  The  two  last  descriptions  pretty 
accurately  include  the  cottier  tenants  and  cottier  labourers  ;  and, 
as  these  are  nearly  all  heads  of  families,  it  may  be  inferred  from 
hence  how  large  a  portion  of  the  soil  of  Ireland  is  cultivated  by  a 
peasant  tenantry ;  and  when  to  these  a  further  addition  is  made 
of  a  great  number  of  little  farmers,  a  tolerably  accurate  opinion 
may  be  formed  of  the  insignificant  weight  and  influence  that  any 
middle  class  in  the  rural  districts  can  have,  as  compared  with  the 
peasants.  Though  many  may  occupy  a  greater  extent  of  land 
than  the  '  cottiers/  and,  if  held  immediately  from  the  proprietor, 
generally  at  a  more  moderate  rent,  and  may  possess  some  trifling 
stock,  almost  all  the  inferior  tenantry  of  Ireland  belong  to  one 
class.  The  cottier  and  the  little  farmer  have  the  same  feelings, 
the  same  interests  to  watch  over,  and  the  same  sympathies. 
Their  diet  and  their  clothing  are  not  very  dissimilar,  though 
they  may  vary  in  quantity ;  and  the  one  cannot  be  ordinarily 
distinguished  from  the  other  by  any  external  appearance.  Neither 
does  the  dress  of  the  children  of  the  little  farmers  mark  any  dis- 
tinction of  rank,  as  it  does  in  England ;  while  their  wives  are 
singularly  deficient  in  the  comforts  of  apparel." — Report  of 
Commissioners  of  Poor  Inquiry. 


OF  ENGLAND.  289 

The  whole  population,  small  farmers,  cottiers,  and 
labourers,  are  equally  devoid  of  capital.  The  small 
farmer  holds  his  ten  or  twelve  acres  of  land  at  a  nomi- 
nal rent — a  rent  determined  not  by  what  the  land  will 
yield,  but  by  the  intensity  of  the  competition  to  obtain 
it.  He  takes  from  his  farm  a  wretched  subsistence, 
and  gives  over  the  remainder  to  his  landlord.  This 
remainder  rarely  equals  the  nominal  rent,  the  growing 
arrears  of  which  are  allowed  to  accumulate  against 
him. 

The  cottier  labours  constantly  for  his  landlord,  (or 
master,  as  he  would  have  been  termed  of  old,)  and 
receives,  for  his  wages  as  a  serf,  land  which  will  afford 
him  but  a  miserable  subsistence.  Badly  off  as  these 
two  classes  are,  their  condition  is  still  somewhat  better 
than  that  of  the  casual  labourer,  who  hires  con-acre, 
and  works  for  wages  at  seasons  when  employment  can 
be  had,  to  get  in  the  first  place  the  means  of  paying 
the  rent  for  his  con-acre. 

Mr.  Bicheno  says — 

"  It  appears  from  the  evidence  that  the  average  crops  of  con- 
acre produce  about  as  much  or  a  little  more,  (at  the  usual  price 
of  potatoes  in  the  autumn,)  than  the  amount  of  the  rent,  seed, 
and  tenant's  labour,  say  5s.  or  10s.  Beyond  this  the  labourer 
does  not  seem  to  derive  any  other  direct  profit  from  taking  con- 
acre ;  but  he  has  the  following  inducements.  In  some  cases  he 
contracts  to  work  out  a  part,  or  the  whole,  of  his  con-acre  rent ; 
and,  even  when  this  indulgence  is  not  conceded  to  him  by  previ- 
ous agreement,  he  always  hopes,  and  endeavours  to  prevail  on 
the  farmer  to  be  allowed  this  privilege,  which,  in  general  want 


290  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

of  employment,  is  almost  always  so  much  clear  gain  to  him.  By 
taking  con-acre  he  also  considers  that  he  is  securing  food  to  the 
extent  of  the  crop  for  himself  and  family  at  the  low  autumn 
price ;  whereas,  if  he  had  to  go  to  market  for  it,  he  would  be  sub- 
ject to  the  loss  of  time,  and  sometimes  expense  of  carriage,  to 
the  fluctuations  of  the  market,  and  to  an  advance  of  price  in 
spring  and  summer." 

Of  the  intensity  of  the  competition  for  land,  the  fol- 
lowing extracts  from  the  evidence  may  give  an  idea : — 

"  Galway,  F.  35. — '  If  I  now  let  it  be  known  that  I  had  a  farm 
of  five  acres  to  let,  I  should  have  fifty  bidders  in  twenty-four 
hours,  and  all  of  them  would  be  ready  to  promise  any  rent  that 
might  be  asked/ — Mr.  Birmingham.  The  landlord  takes  on 
account  whatever  portion  of  the  rent  the  tenant  may  be  able  to 
offer ;  the  remainder  he  does  not  remit,  but  allows  to  remain  over. 
A  remission  of  a  portion  of  the  rent  in  either  plentiful  or  scarce 
seasons  is  never  made  as  a  matter  of  course ;  when  it  does  take 
place,  it  is  looked  upon  as  a  favour. 

"'The  labourer  is,  from  the  absence  of  any  other  means  of 
subsisting  himself  and  family,  thrown  upon  the  hire  of  land,  and 
the  land  he  must  hire  at  any  rate  ;  the  payment  of  the  promised 
rent  is  an  after  consideration.  He  always  offers  such  a  rent  as 
leaves  him  nothing  of  the  produce  for  his  own  use  but  potatoes, 
his  corn  being  entirely  for  his  landlord's  claim/ — Rev.  Mr. 
Hughes,  P.  P.,  and  Parker. 

"  Leitrim,  F.  36  and  37. — '  So  great  is  the  competition  for  small 
holdings,  that,  if  a  farm  of  five  acres  were  vacant,  I  really  believe 
that  nine  out  of  every  ten  men  in  the  neighbourhood  would  bid 
for  it  if  they  thought  they  had  the  least  chance  of  getting  it : 
they  would  be  prepared  to  outbid  each  other,  ad  infinitum,  in 
order  to  get  possession  of  the  land.  The  rent  which  the  people 
themselves  would  deem  moderate,  would  not  in  any  case  admit  of 
their  making  use  of  any  other  food  than  potatoes  ;  there  are  even 
many  instances  in  this  barony  where  the  occupier  cannot  feed 
himself  and  family  off  the  land  he  holds.  In  his  anxiety  to  grow 


OF  ENGLAND.  291 

as  much  oats  (his  only  marketable  produce)  as  will  meet  the 
various  claims  upon  him,  he  devotes  so  small  a  space  to  the  cul- 
tivation of  potatoes,  that  he  is  obliged  to  take  a  portion  of  con- 
acre, and  to  pay  for  it  by  wages  earned  at  a  time  when  he  would 
have  been  better  employed  on  his  own  account/ — Rev.  T.  Ma- 
guire,  P.  P." 

The  land  is  subdivided  into  such  small  portions,  that 
the  labourer  has  not  sufficient  to  grow  more  than  a 
very  scanty  provision  for  himself  and  family.  The 
better  individuals  of  the  class  manage  to  secrete  some 
of  its  produce  from  the  landlord,  to  do  which  it  is  of 
course  necessary  that  they  should  not  employ  it  on 
their  land :  but  if  land  is  offered  to  be  let,  persons  will 
be  found  so  eager  for  it  as  to  make  compliments  to 
some  one  of  the  family  of  the  landlord  or  of  his  agent. 

The  exactions  of  agents  and  sub-agents  are  the  most 
frequent  causes  of  suffering  among  the  peasantry. 
These  agents  are  a  class  peculiar  to  Ireland.  They 
take  a  large  extent  of  ground,  which  they  let  out  in 
small  portions  to  the  real  cultivator.  They  grant 
leases  sometimes,  but  the  tenant  is  still  in  their  power, 
and  they  exact  personal  services,  presents,  bribes; 
and  draw  from  the  land  as  much  as  they  can,  without 
the  least  regard  for  its  permanent  welfare.  That  por- 
tion of  the  poor  peasant's  substance  which  escapes  the 
tithes  and  tax  of  government  is  seized  by  the  remorse- 
less agents,  and  thus  the  wretched  labourer  can  get 
but  a  miserable  subsistence  by  the  severest  toil. 

In  general  the  tenant  takes  land,  promising  to  pay  a 


292  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

"nominal  rent/'  in  other  words,  a  rent  he  never  can 
pay.  This  rent  falls  into  arrear,  and  the  landlord 
allows  the  arrear  to  accumulate  against  him,  in  the 
hope  that  if  he  should  chance  to  have  an  extraordinary 
crop,  or  if  he  should  obtain  it  from  any  unexpected 
source,  the  landlord  may  claim  it  for  his  arrears. 

The  report  of  Poor-Law  Commissioners  states  that 
"Agricultural  wages  vary  from  Qd.  to  Is.  a  day; 
that  the  average  of  the  country  in  general  is  about 
8^d. ;  and  that  the  earnings  of  the  labourers,  on  an 
average  of  the  whole  class,  are  from  2s.  to  2s.  Qd.  a 
week,  or  thereabout."  > 

"  Thus  circumstanced,  it  is  impossible  for  the  able-bodied,  in 
general,  to  provide  against  sickness  or  the  temporary  absence  of 
employment,  or  against  old  age  or  the  destitution  of  their  widows 
and  children  in  the  contingent  event  of  their  own  premature 
decease. 

"  A  great  portion  of  them  are  insufficiently  provided  at  any 
time  with  the  commonest  necessaries  of  life.  Their  habitations 
are  wretched  hovels ;  several  of  a  family  sleep  together  upon 
straw  or  upon  the  bare  ground,  sometimes  with  a  blanket,  some- 
times not  even  so  much  to  cover  them ;  their  food  commonly  con- 
sists of  dry  potatoes,  and  with  these  they  are  at  times  so  scantily 
supplied  as  to  be  obliged  to  stint  themselves  to  one  spare  meal  in 
the  day.  There  are  even  instances  of  persons  being  driven  by 
hunger  to  seek  sustenance  in  wild  herbs.  They  sometimes  get  a 
herring,  or  a  little  milk,  but  they  never  get  meat,  except  at 
Christmas,  Easter,  and  Shrovetide." 

The  peasant  finds  himself  obliged  to  live  upon  the 
cheapest  food,  potatoes,  and  potatoes  of  the  worst  qua- 
lity, because  they  yield  most,  and  are  consequently  the 


OF   ENGLAND.  293 

cheapest.  These  potatoes  are  "  little  better  than  tur- 
nips." "Lumpers"  is  the  name  given  to  them.  They 
are  two  degrees  removed  from  those  which  come  ordi- 
narily to  our  tables,  and  which  are  termed  «  apples." 
Mr.  Bicheno  says,  describing  the  three  sorts  of  pota- 
toes— apples,  cups,  and  lumpers — 

"  The  first  named  are  of  the  best  quality,  but  produce  the  least 
in  quantity ;  the  cups  are  not  so  good  in  quality  as  the  apples, 
but  produce  more ;  and  the  lumpers  are  the  worst  of  the  three  in 
quality,  but  yield  the  heaviest  crop.  For  these  reasons  the 
apples  are  generally  sent  to  Dublin  and  other  large  towns  for 
sale.  The  cups  are  grown  for  the  consumption  of  smaller  towns, 
and  are  eaten  by  the  larger  farmers,  and  the  few  of  the  small  oc- 
cupiers and  labourers  who  are  in  better  circumstances  than  the 
generality  of  their  class ;  and  the  lumpers  are  grown  by  large 
farmers  for  stall-feeding  cattle,  and  by  most  of  the  small  occu- 
piers and  all  the  labourers  (except  a  few  in  constant  employ- 
ment, and  having  but  small  families)  for  their  own  food.  Though 
most  of  the  small  occupiers  and  labourers  grow  apples  and  cups, 
they  do  not  use  them  themselves,  with  the  few  exceptions  men- 
tioned, except  as  holiday  fare,  and  as  a  little  indulgence  on 
particular  occasions.  They  can  only  afford  to  consume  the 
lumpers,  or  coarsest  quality,  themselves,  on  account  of  the  much 
larger  produce  and  consequent  cheapness  of  that  sort.  The 
apples  yield  10  to  15  per  cent,  less  than  the  cups,  and  the  cups 
10  to  15  per  cent,  less  than  the  lumpers,  making  a  difference  of 
20  to  30  per  cent,  between  the  produce  of  the  best  and  the  worst 
qualities.  To  illustrate  the  practice  and  feeling  of  the  country 
in  this  respect,  the  following  occurrence  was  related  by  one  of 
the  witnesses : — *  A  landlord,  in  passing  the  door  of  one  of  his 
tenants,  a  small  occupier,  who  was  in  arrears  with  his  rent,  saw 
one  of  his  daughters  washing  potatoes  at  the  door,  and  perceiv- 
ing that  they  were  of  the  apple  kind,  asked  her  if  they  were 
intended  for  their  dinner.  Upon  being  answered  that  they  were, 


294  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

he  entered  the  house,  and  asked  the  tenant  what  he  meant 
by  eating  apple  potatoes  when  they  were  fetching  so  good  a 
price  in  Dublin,  and  while  he  did  not  pay  him  (the  landlord)  his 
rent?'" 

Lumpers,  dry,  that  is,  without  milk  or  any  other 
addition  to  them,  are  the  ordinary  food  of  the  people. 
The  pig  which  is  seen  in  most  Irish  cabins,  and  the  cow 
and  fowls  kept  by  the  small  farmers,  go  to  market  to 
pay  the  rent ;  even  the  eggs  are  sold.  Small  farmers, 
as  well  as  labourers,  rarely  have  even  milk  to  their 
potatoes. 

The  following  graphic  description  of  an  Irish  pea- 
sant's home,  we  quote  from  the  Pictorial  Times,  of 
February  7,  1846.  Some  districts  in  Ireland  are 
crowded  with  such  hovels : — 

"  Cabin  of  J.  Donoghue. — The  hovel  to  which  the  eye  is  now 
directed  scarcely  exceeds  -Donoghue's  length.  He  will  have  al- 
most as  much  space  when  laid  in  his  grave.  He  can  stand  up  in 
no  part  of  his  cabin  except  the  centre ;  and  yet  he  is  not  an  aged 
man,  who  has  outlived  all  his  connections,  and  with  a  frame  just 
ready  to  mingle  with  its  native  dust.  Nor  is  he  a  bachelor,  ab- 
solutely impenetrable  to  female  charms,  or  looking  out  for  some 
damsel  to  whom  he  may  be  united,  'for  better  or  for  worse/ 
Donoghue,  the  miserable  inmate  of  that  hovel,  on  the  contrary, 
has  a  wife  and  three  children ;  and  these,  together  with  a  dog,  a 
pig,  and  sundry  fowls,  find  in  that  cabin  their  common  abode. 
Human  beings  and  brutes  are  there  huddled  together ;  and  the 
motive  to  the  occupancy  of  the  former  is  just  the  same  as  that 
which  operates  to  the  keeping  of  the  latter — what  they  produce. 
Did  not  the  pig  and  the  fowls  make  money,  Donoghue  would  have 
none ;  did  not  Donoghue  pay  his  rent,  the  cabin  would  quickly 
have  another  tenant.  Indeed,  his  rent  is  only  paid,  and  he  and 


OF  ENGLAND.  295 

his  family  saved  from  being  turned  adrift  into  the  wide  world,  by 
his  pig  and  his  fowls. 

11  But  the  cabin  should  be  examined  more  particularly.  It  has 
a  hole  for  a  door,  it  has  another  for  a  window,  it  has  a  third 
through  which  the  smoke  may  find  vent,  and  nothing  more.  No 
resemblance  to  the  door  of  an  English  cottage,  however  humble, 
nor  the  casement  it  is  never  without,  nor  even  the  rudest  chimney 
from  which  the  blue  smoke  arises,  suggesting  to  the  observer 
many  ideas  of  comfort  for  its  inmates,  can  possibly  be  traced. 
The  walls,  too,  are  jet  black ;  and  that  which  ought  to  be  a  floor 
is  mud,  thick  mud,  full  of  holes.  The  bed  of  the  family  is  sod. 
The  very  cradle  is  a  sort  of  swing  suspended  from  the  roof,  and 
it  is  set  in  motion  by  the  elbow  of  the  wretched  mother  of  the 
wretched  child  it  contains,  if  she  is  not  disposed  to  make  use  of 
her  hands. 

"  The  question  may  fairly  be  proposed — What  comfort  can  a 
man  have  in  such  circumstances  ?  Can  he  find  some  relief  from 
his  misery,  as  many  have  found  and  still  find  it,  by  conversing 
with  his  wife  ?  No.  To  suppose  this,  is  to  imagine  him  standing 
in  a  higher  class  of  beings  than  the  one  of  which  he  has  always 
formed  a  part.  Like  himself,  too,  his  wife  is  oppressed ;  the 
growth  of  her  faculties  is  stunted ;  and,  it  may  be,  she  is  hungry, 
faint,  and  sick.  Can  he  talk  with  his  children  ?  No.  What  can 
he,  who  knows  nothing,  tell  them  ?  What  hope  can  he  stimulate 
who  has  nothing  to  promise  ?  Can  he  ask  in  a  neighbour  ?  No. 
He  has  no  hospitality  to  offer  him,  and  the  cabin  is  crowded  with 
his  own  family.  Can  he  accost  a  stranger  who  may  travel  in  the 
direction  of  his  hovel,  to  make  himself  personally  acquainted 
with  his  condition  and  that  of  others  ?  No.  He  speaks  a  lan- 
guage foreign  to  an  Englishman  or  a  Scotchman,  and  which  those 
who  hate  the  '  Saxon/  whatever  compliments  they  may  pay  him 
for  their  own  purposes,  use  all  the  means  they  possess  to  main- 
tain. Can  he  even  look  at  his  pig  with  the  expectation  that  he 
will  one  day  eat  the  pork  or  the  bacon  it  will  yield  ?  No ;  not 
he.  He  knows  that  not  a  bone  of  the  loin  or  a  rasher  will  be  his. 
That  pig  will  go,  like  all  the  pigs  he  has  had,  to  pay  his  rent. 
Only  one  comfort  remains,  which  he  has  in  common  with  his  pig 


296  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

and  his  dog,  the  warmth  of  his  peat  fire.  Poor  Donoghue !  thou 
belongest  to  a  race  often  celebrated  as  *  the  finest  peasantry  in  the 
world/  but  it  would  be  difficult  to  find  a  savage  in  his  native 
forest  who  is  not  better  off  than  thou  1" 

There  is  one  other  comfort  besides  the  peat  fire, 
•which  Donoghue  may  have,  and  that  is  an  occasional 
gill  of  whisky — a  temporary  comfort,  an  ultimate 
destruction — a  new  fetter  to  bind  him  down  in  his 
almost  brutal  condition.  In  Ireland,  as  in  England, 
intoxication  is  the  Lethe  in  which  the  heart-sick 
labourers  strive  to  forget  their  sorrows.  Intemperance 
prevails  most  where  poverty  is  most  generally  felt. 

The  Pictorial  Times  thus  sketches  a  cabin  of  the 
better  class,  belonging  to  a  man  named  Pat  Bren- 
nan : — 

"We  will  enter  it,  and  look  round  with  English  eyes.  We  will 
do  so,  too,  in  connection  with  the  remembrance  of  an  humble 
dwelling  in  England.  There  we  find  at  least  a  table,  but  here 
there  is  none.  There  we  find  some  chairs,  but  here  there  are 
none.  There  we  find  a  cupboard,  but  here  there  is  none.  There 
we  find  some  crockery  and  earthenware,  but  here  there  is  none. 
There  we  find  a  clock,  but  here  there  is  none.  There  we  find  a 
bed,  bedstead,  and  coverings,  but  here  there  are  none.  There  is 
a  brick,  or  stone,  or  boarded  floor,  but  here  there  is  none.  What 
a  descent  would  an  English  agricultural  labourer  have  to  make  if 
he  changed  situations  with  poor  Pat  Brennan,  who  is  better  off 
than  most  of  the  tenants  of  Derrynane  Beg,  and  it  may  be  in  the 
best  condition  of  them  all !  Brennan's  cabin  has  one  room,  in 
which  he  and  his  family  live,  of  course  with  the  fowls  and  pigs. 
One  end  is  partitioned  off  in  the  manner  of  a  loft,  the  loft  being 
the  potato  store.  The  space  underneath,  where  the  fire  is  kindled, 


OF  ENGLAND.  297 

has  side  spaces  for  seats.  In  some  instances,  the  turf-bed  is  on 
one  side  and  the  seats  on  the  other.  The  other  contents  of  the 
dwelling  are — a  milk-pail,  a  pot,  a  wooden  bowl  or  two,  a  platter, 
and  a  broken  ladder.  A  gaudy  picture  of  the  Virgin  Mary  may 
sometimes  be  seen  in  such  cabins." 

The  eviction  of  the  wretched  peasantry  has  caused 
an  immense  amount  of  misery,  and  crowds  of  the 
evicted  ones  have  perished  from  starvation.  The  tillers 
of  the  soil  are  mere  tenants  at  will,  and  may  be  ejected 
from  their  homes  without  a  moment's  notice.  A  whim 
of  the  landlord,  the  failure  of  the  potato  crop,  or  of 
the  ordinary  resources  of  the  labourers,  by  which  they 
are  rendered  unable  to  pay  their  rent  for  a  short  time, 
usually  results  in  an  edict  of  levelling  and  extermina- 
tion. A  recent  correspondent  of  the  London  Illus- 
trated News,  thus  describes  the  desolation  of  an  Irish 
village : — 

"The  village  of  Killard  forms  part  of  the  Union  of  Kilrush, 
and  possesses  an  area  of  17,022  acres.  It  had  a  population,  in 
1841,  of  6850  souls,  and  was  valued  to  the  poor-rate  at  £4254. 
It  is  chiefly  the  property,  I  understand,  of  Mr.  John  McMahon 
Blackall,  whose  healthy  residence  is  admirably  situated  on  the 
brow  of  a  hill,  protected  by  another  ridge  from  the  storms  of  the 
Atlantic.  His  roof-tree  yet  stands  there,  but  the  people  have  dis- 
appeared. The  village  was  mostly  inhabited  by  fishermen,  who 
united  with  their  occupation  on  the  waters  the  cultivation  of 
potatoes,  "When  the  latter  failed,  it  might  have  been  expected 
that  the  former  should  have  been  pursued  with  more  vigour  than 
ever ;  but  boats  and.  lines  were  sold  for  present  subsistence,  and 
to  the  failure  of  the  potatoes  was  added  the  abandonment  of  the 
fisheries.  The  rent  dwindled  to  nothing,  and  then  came  the 

20 


298  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

leveller  and  the  exterminator.  What  has  become  of  the  6850 
souls,  I  know  not ;  but  not  ten  houses  remain  of  the  whole  village 
to  inform  the  wayfarer  where,  according  to  the  population  returns, 
they  were  to  be  found  in  1841.  They  were  here,  but  are  gone  for 
ever ;  and  all  that  remains  of  their  abodes  are  a  few  mouldering 
walls,  and  piles  of  offensive  thatch  turning  into  manure.  Killard 
is  an  epitome  of  half  Ireland.  If  the  abodes  of  the  people  had 
not  been  so  slight,  that  they  have  mingled,  like  Babylon,  with 
their  original  clay,  Ireland  would  for  ages  be  renowned  for  its 
ruins ;  but,  as  it  is,  the  houses  are  swept  away  like  the  people, 
and  not  a  monument  remains  of  a  multitude,  which,  in  ancient 
Asia  or  in  the  wilds  of  America,  would  numerically  constitute  a 
great  nation." 

The  same  correspondent  mentions  a  number  of  other 
instances  of  the  landlord's  devastation,  and  states  that 
large  tracts  of  fertile  land  over  which  he  passed  were 
lying  waste,  while  the  peasantry  were  starving  by  the 
roadside,  or  faring  miserably  in  the  workhouses.  At 
Carihaken,  in  the  county  of  Galway,  the  levellers  had 
been  at  work,  and  had  tumbled  down  eighteen  houses. 
The  correspondent  says — 

"  In  one  of  them  dwelt  John  Killian,  who  stood  by  me  while  I 
made  a  sketch  of  the  remains  of  his  dwelling.  He  told  me  that 
he  and  his  fathers  before  him  had  owned  this  now  ruined  cabin 
for  ages,  and  that  he  had  paid  .£4  a  year  for  four  acres  of  ground. 
He  owed  no  rent ;  before  it  was  due,  the  landlord's  drivers  cut 
down  his  crops,  carried  them  off,  gave  him  no  account  of  the  pro- 
ceeds, and  then  tumbled  his  house.  The  hut  made  against  the 
end  wall  of  a  former  habitation  was  not  likely  to  remain,  as  a 
decree  had  gone  forth  entirely  to  clear  the  place.  The  old  man 
also  told  me  that  his  son  having  cut  down,  on  the  spot  that  was 
once  his  own  garden,  a  few  sticks  to  make  him  a  shelter,  was 


OF   ENGLANP.  299 

taken  up,  prosecuted,  and  sentenced  to  two  months'  confinement, 
for  destroying  trees  and  making  waste  of  the  property. 

"  I  must  supply  you  with  another  sketch  of  a  similar  subject, 
on  the  road  between  Maam  and  Clifden,  in  Joyce's  County,  once 
famous  for  the  Patagonian  stature  of  the  inhabitants,  who  are 
now  starved  down  to  ordinary  dimensions.  High  up  on  the 
mountain,  but  on  the  roadside,  stands  the  scalpeen  of  Keillines. 
It  is  near  General  Thompson's  property.  Conceive  five  human 
beings  living  in  such  a  hole :  the  father  was  out,  at  work ;  the 
mother  was  getting  fuel  on  the  hills,  and  the  children  left  in  the 
hut  could  only  say  they  were  hungry.  Their  appearance  con- 
firmed their  words — want  was  deeply  engraved  in  their  faces,  and 
their  lank  bodies  were  almost  unprotected  by  clothing. 

"From  Clifden  to  Ouchterade,  twenty-one  miles,  is  a  dreary 
drive  over  a  moor,  unrelieved  except  by  a  glimpse  of  Mr.  Martin's 
house  at  Ballynahinch,  and  of  the  residence  of  Dean  Mahon. 
Destitute  as  this  tract  is  of  inhabitants,  about  Ouchterade  some 
thirty  houses  have  been  recently  demolished.  A  gentleman  who 
witnessed  the  scene  told  me  nothing  could  exceed  the  heartless- 
ness  of  the  levellers,  if  it  were  not  the  patient  submission  of  the 
sufferers.  They  wept,  indeed ;  and  the  children  screamed  with 
agony  at  seeing  their  homes  destroyed  and  their  parents  in  tears  ; 
but  the  latter  allowed  themselves  unresistingly  to  be  deprived  of 
what  is  to  most  people  the  dearest  thing  on  earth  next  to  their 
lives — their  only  home. 

"  The  public  records,  my  own  eyes,  a  piercing  wail  of  wo 
throughout  the  land — all  testify  to  the  vast  extent  of  the  evic- 
tions at  the  present  time.  Sixteen  thousand  and  odd  persons 
unhoused  in  the  Union  of  Kilrush  before  the  month  of  June  in 
the  present  year ;  seventy-one  thousand  one  hundred  and  thirty 
holdings  done  away  in  Ireland,  and  nea'rly  as  many  houses  de- 
stroyed, in  1848 ;  two  hundred  and  fifty-four  thousand  holdings 
of  more  than  one  acre  and  less  than  five  acres,  put  an  end  to 
between  1841  and  1848  :  six-tenths,  in  fact,  of  the  lowest  class  of 
tenantry  driven  from  their  now  roofless  or  annihilated  cabins  and 
houses,  makes  up  the  general  description  of  that  desolation  of 
which  Tullig  and  Mo  oven  are  examples.  The  ruin  is  great  and 


300  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

complete.  The  blow  that  effected  it  was  irresistible.  It  came  in 
the  guise  of  charity  and  benevolence ;  it  assumed  the  character 
of  the  last  and  best  friend  of  the  peasantry,  and  it  has  struck 
them  to  the  heart.  They  are  prostrate  and  helpless.  The  once 
frolicksome  people — even  the  saucy  beggars — have  disappeared, 
and  given  place  to  wan  and  haggard  objects,  who  are  so  resigned 
to  their  doom  that  they  no  longer  expect  relief.  One  beholds  only 
shrunken  frames,  scarcely  covered  with  flesh — crawling  skeletons, 
who  appear  to  have  risen  from  their  graves,  and  are  ready  to 
return  frightened  to  that  abode.  They  have  little  other  covering 
than  that  nature  has  bestowed  on  the  human  body — a  poor  pro- 
tection against  inclement  weather ;  and,  now  that  the  only  hand 
from  which  they  expected  help  is  turned  against  them,  even  hope 
is  departed,  and  they  are  filled  with  despair.  Than  the  present 
Earl  of  Carlisle  there  is  not  a  more  humane  nor  a  kinder-hearted 
nobleman  in  the  kingdom ;  he  is  of  high  honour  and  unsullied 
reputation ;  yet  the  poor-law  he  was  mainly  the  means  of  es- 
tablishing for  Ireland,  with  the  best  intentions,  has  been  one  of 
the  chief  causes  of  the  people  being  at  this  time  turned  out 
of  their  homes,  and  forced  to  burrow  in  holes,  and  share,  till 
they  are  discovered,  the  ditches  and  the  bogs  with  otters  and 
snipes. 

"  The  instant  the  poor-law  was  passed,  and  property  was  made 
responsible  for  poverty,  the  whole  of  the  land-owners,  who  had 
before  been  careless  about  the  people,  and  often  allowed  them  to 
plant  themselves  on  untenanted  spots,  or  divide  their  tenancies — 
delighted  to  get  the  promise  of  a  little  additional  rent — imme- 
diately became  deeply  interested  in  preventing  that,  and  in  keep- 
ing down  the  number  of  the  people.  Before  they  had  rates  to 
pay,  they  cared  nothing  for  them  ;  but  the  law  and  their  self- 
.  interest  made  them  care,  and  made  them  extirpators.  Nothing 
less  than  some  general  desire  like  that  of  cupidity  falling  in  with 
an  enactment,  and  justified  by  a  theory — nothing  less  than  a 
passion  which  works  silently  in  all,  and  safely  under  the  sanction 
of  a  law — could  have  effected  such  wide-spread  destruction. 
Even  humanity  was  enlisted  by  the  poor-law  on  the  side  of  ex- 
tirpation. As  long  as  there  was  no  legal  provision  for  the  poor,  a 


OF  ENGLAND.  301 

landlord  had  some  repugnance  to  drive  them  from  every  shelter ; 
but  the  instant  the  law  took  them  under  its  protection,  and  forced 
the  land-owner  to  pay  a  rate  to  provide  for  them,  repugnance 
ceased :  they  had  a  legal  home,  however  inefficient,  to  go  to  ;  and 
eviction  began.  Even  the  growth  of  toleration  seems  to  have 
worked  to  the  same  end.  Till  the  Catholics  were  emancipated, 
they  were  all — rich  and  poor,  priests  and  peasants — united  by  a 
common  bond ;  and  Protestant  landlords  beginning  evictions  on 
a  great  scale  would  have  roused  against  them  the  whole  Catholic 
nation.  It  would  have  been  taken  up  as  a  religious  question,  as 
well  as  a  question  of  the  poor,  prior  to  1829.  Subsequent  to  that 
time — with  a  Whig  administration,  with  all  offices  open  to  Catho- 
lics— no  religious  feelings  could  mingle  with  the  matter :  eviction 
became  a  pure  question  of  interest ;  and  while  the  priests  look 
now,  perhaps,  as  much  to  the  government  as  to  their  flocks  for 
support,  Catholic  landlords  are  not  behind  Protestant  landlords 
in  clearing  their  estates." 

The  person  from  whom  we  make  the  above  quotation 
visited  Ireland  after  the  famine  consequent  upon  the 
failure  of  the  potato  crop  had  done  its  worst — in  the 
latter  part  of  1849.  But  famine  seems  to  prevail,  to  a 
certain  extent,  at  all  times,  in  that  unhappy  land — and 
thus  it  is  clear  that  the  accidental  failure  of  a  crop  has 
less  to  do  with  the  misery  of  the  people  than  radical 
misgovernment. 

"  To  the  Irish,  such  desolation  is  nothing  new.  They  have  long 
been  accustomed  to  this  kind  of  skinning.  Their  history,  ever  since 
it  was  written,  teems  with  accounts  of  land  forcibly  taken  from  one 
set  of  owners  and  given  to  another ;  of  clearings  and  plantings 
exactly  similar  in  principle  to  that  which  is  now  going  on ;  of 
driving  men  from  Leinster  to  Munster,  from  Munster  to  Con- 
naught,  and  from  Connaught  into  the  sea.  Without  going  back 
K 


302  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

to  ancient  proscriptions  and  confiscations — all  the  land  having 
"been,  between  the  reign  of  Henry  II.  and  William  III.  confis- 
cated, it  is  affirmed,  three  times  over — we  must  mention  that  the 
clearing  so  conspicuous  in  1848  has  now  been  going  on  for  several 
years.  The  total  number  of  holdings  in  1841,  of  above  one 
acre,  and  not  exceeding  five  acres  each,  was  310,375;  and,  in 
1847,  they  had  been  diminished  to  125,926.  In  that  single  class 
of  holdings,  therefore,  184,449,  between  1841  and  1847  inclusive, 
had  been  done  away  with,  and  24,147  were  extinguished  in  1848. 
Within  that  period,  the  number  of  farms  of  five  acres  and  up- 
ward, particularly  of  farms  of  thirty  acres  and  upward,  was  in- 
creased 210,229,  the  latter  class  having  increased  by  108,474. 
Little  or  no  fresh  land  was  broken  up ;  and  they,  therefore,  could 
only  have  been  formed  by  amassing  in  these  larger  farms  nu- 
merous small  holdings.  Before  the  year  1847,  therefore,  before 
1846,  when  the  potato  rot  worked  so  much  mischief,  even  before 
1845,  the  process  of  clearing  the  land,  of  putting  down  home- 
steads and  consolidating  farms,  had  been  carried  to  a  great  ex- 
tent ;  before  any  provision  had  been  made  by  a  poor-law  for  the 
evicted  families,  before  the  turned-out  labourers  and  little  farmers 
had  even  the  workhouse  for  a  refuge,  multitudes  had  been  con- 
tinually driven  from  their  homes  to  a  great  extent,  as  in  1848. 
The  very  process,  therefore,  on  which  government  now  relies  for 
the  present  relief  and  the  future  improvement  of  Ireland,  was  be- 
gun and  was  carried  to  a  great  extent  several  years  before  the  ex- 
tremity of  distress  fell  upon  it  in  1846.  We  are  far  from  saying 
that  the  potato  rot  was  caused  by  the  clearing  system  ;  but,  by 
disheartening  the  people,  by  depriving  them  of  security,  by  con- 
tributing to  their  recklessness,  by  paralyzing  their  exertions,  by 
promoting  outrages,  that  system  undoubtedly  aggravated  all  the 
evils  of  that  extraordinary  visitation." — Illustrated  News,  October 
13,  1849. 

The  correspondent  of  the  News  saw  from  one 
hundred  and  fifty  to  one  hundred  and  eighty  funerals 
of  victims  to  the  want  of  food?  the  whole  number 


OF   ENGLAND.  303 

attended  by  not  more  than  fifty  persons.  So  hardened 
were  the  men  regularly  employed  in  the  removal  of  the 
dead  from  the  workhouse,  that  they  would  drive  to  the 
churchyard  sitting  upon  the  coffins,  and  smoking  with 
apparent  enjoyment.  These  men  had  evidently  "  supped 
full  of  horrors."  A  funeral  was  no  solemnity  to  them. 
They  had  seen  the  wretched  peasants  in  the  madness  of 
starvation,  and  death  had  come  as  a  soothing  angel. 
Why  should  the  quieted  sufferers  be  lamented  ? 

A  specimen  of  the  in-door  horrors  of  Scull  may  be 
seen  in  the  sketch  of  a  hut  of  a  poor  man  named  Mul- 
lins,  who  lay  dying  in  a  corner,  upon  a  heap  of  straw 
supplied  by  the  Relief  Committee,  while  his  three 
wretched  children  crouched  over  a  few  embers  of  turf, 
as  if  to  raise  the  last  remaining  spark  of  life.  This 
poor  man,  it  appears,  had  buried  his  wife  about  five 
days  before,  and  was,  in  all  probability,  on  the  eve  of 
joining  her,  when  he  was  found  out  by  the  efforts  of 
the  vicar,  who,  for  a  few  short  days,  saved  him  from 
that  which  no  kindness  could  ultimately  avert.  The 
dimensions  of  Mullins's  hut  did  not  exceed  ten  feet 
square,  and  the  dirt  and  filth  was  ankle-deep  upon  the 
floor. 


"  Commander  Caffin,  the  captain  of  the  steam-sloop  Scourge, 
on  the  south  coast  of  Ireland,  has  written  a  letter  to  a  friend, 
dated  February  15,  1847,  in  which  he  gives  a  most  distressing 
and  graphic  account  of  the  scenes  he  witnessed  in  the  course  of 
Ms  duty  in  discharging  a  cargo  of  meal  at  Scull.  After  stating 


804  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

that  three-fourths  of  the  inhabitants  carry  a  tale  of  wo  in  their 
countenances,  and  are  reduced  to  mere  skeletons,  he  mentions  the 
result  of  what  he  saw  while  going  through  the  parish  with  the 
rector,  Dr.  Traill.  He  says — 

"  'Famine  exists  to  a  fearful  degree,  with  all  its  horrors.  Fever 
has  sprung  up,  consequent  upon  the  wretchedness  ;  and  swellings 
of  limbs  and  body,  and  diarrhoea,  upon  the  want  of  nourishment, 
are  everywhere  to  be  found.  Dr.  TrailFs  parish  is  twenty-one 
miles  in  extent,  containing  about  eighteen  thousand  souls,  with 
not  more  than  half  a  dozen  gentlemen  in  the  whole  of  it.  He 
drove  me  about  five  or-  six  miles ;  but  we"  commenced  our  visits 
before  leaving  the  village,  and  in  no  house  that  I  entered  was 
there  not  to  be  found  the  dead  or  dying.  In  particularizing  two  or 
three,  they  may  be  taken  as  the  features  of  the  whole.  There  was 
no  picking  or  choosing,  but  we  took  them  just  as  they  came. 

" '  The  first  which  I  shall  mention  was  a  cabin,  rather  above 
the  ordinary  ones  in  appearance  and  comfort ;  in  it  were  three 
young  women,  and  one  young  man,  and  three  children,  all 
crouched  over  a  fire — pictures  of  misery.  Dr.  Traill  asked  after 
the  father,  upon  which  one  of  the  girls  opened  a  door  leading  into 
another  cabin,  and  there  were  the  father  and  mother  in  bed ;  the 
father  the  most  wretched  picture  of  starvation  possible  to  con- 
ceive, a  skeleton  with  life,  his  power  of  speech  gone  ;  the  mother 
but  a  little  better — her  cries  for  mercy  and  food  were  heart- 
rending. It  was  sheer  destitution  that  had  brought  them  to  this. 
They  had  been  well  to  do  in  the  world,  with  their  cow,  and  few 
sheep,  and  potato-ground.  Their  crops  failed,  and  their  cattle 
were  stolen ;  although,  anticipating  this,  they  had  taken  their 
cow  and  sheep  into  the  cabin  with  them  every  night,  but  they 
were  stolen  in  the  daytime.  The  son  had  worked  on  the  road, 
and  earned  his  8d.  a  day,  but  this  would  not  keep  the  family,  and 
he,  from  work  and  insufficiency  of  food,  is  laid  up,  and  will  soon 
be  as  bad  as  his  father.  They  had  nothing  to  eat  in  the  house, 
and  I  could  see  no  hope  for  any  one  of  them. 

"  *  In  another  cabin  we  went  into,  a  mother  and  her  daughter 
were  there — the  daughter  emaciated,  and  lying  against  the  wall — 
the  mother  naked  upon  some  straw  on  the  ground,  with  a  rug 


OF   ENGLAND.  305 

over  her — a  most  distressing  object  of  misery.  She  writhed 
about,  and  bared  her  limbs,  in  order  to  show  her  state  of  ex- 
haustion. She  had  wasted  away  until  nothing  but  the  skin 
covered  the  bones — she  cannot  have  survived  to  this  time. 

"  *  Another  that  I  entered  had,  indeed,  the  appearance  of 
wretchedness  without,  but  its  inside  was  misery !  Dr.  Traill,  on 
putting  his  head  inside  the  hole  which  answered  for  a  door,  said, 
*  Well,  Philis,  how  is  your  mother  to-day  ?' — he  having  been  with 
her  the  day  before — and  was  replied  to,  'Oh,  sir,  is  it  you? 
Mother  is  dead  I'  and  there,  fearful  reality,  was  the  daughter,  a 
skeleton  herself,  crouched  and  crying  over  .the  lifeless  body  of  her 
mother,  which  was  on  the  floor,  cramped  up  as  she  had  died,  with 
her  rags  and  her  cloak  about  her,  by  the  side  of  a  few  embers  of 
peat.  In  the  next  cabin  were  three  young  children  belonging  to 
the  daughter,  whose  husband  had  run  away  from  her,  all  pictures 
of  death.  The  poor  creature  said  she  did  not  know  what  to  do 
with  the  corpse — she  had  no  means  of  getting  it  removed,  and 
she  was  too  exhausted  to  remove  it  herself:  this  cabin  was  about 
three  miles  from  the  rectory.  In  another  cabin,  .the  door  of 
which  was  stopped  with  dung,  was  a  poor  woman  whom  we  had 
taken  by  surprise,  as  she  roused  up  evidently  much  astonished. 
She  burst  into  tears  upon  seeing  the  doctor,  and  said  she  had  not 
been  enabled  to  sleep  since  the  corpse  of  the  woman  had  lain  in 
her  bed.  This  was  a  poor  creature  who  was  passing  this  mise- 
rable cabin,  and  asked  the  old  woman  to  allow  her  to  rest  herself 
for  a  few  moments,  when  she  had  laid  down,  but  never  rose  up 
again ;  she  died  in  an  hour  or  so,  from  sheer  exhaustion.  The 
body  had  remained  in  this  hovel  of  six  feet  square  with  the  poor 
old  woman  for  four  days,  and  she  could  not  get  anybody  to 
remove  it/ 

"  The  letter  proceeds : — 

" '  I  could  in  this  manner  take  you  through  the  thirty  or  more 
cottages  we  visited;  but  they,  without  exception,  were  all  alike — 
the  dead  and  the  dying  in  each  ;  and  I  could  tell  you  more  of  the 
truth  of  the  heart-rending  scene  were  I  to  mention  the  lamenta- 
tions and  bitter  cryings  of  each  of  these  poor  creatures  on  the 
threshold  of  death.  Never  in  my  life  have  I  seen  such  whole- 


306  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

sale  misery,  nor  could  I  have  thought  it  so  complete.'" — Illus- 
trated News,  February  20, 1847.  [At  this  period,  famine  prevailed 
throughout  Ireland.] 

At  the  village  of  Mienils,  a  man  named  Leahey 
perished  during  the  great  famine,  with  many  circum- 
stances of  horror.  When  too  weak,  from  want  of 
food,  to  help  himself,  he  was  stretched  in  his  filthy 
hovel,  when  his  famished  dogs  attacked  and  so  mangled 
him  that  he  expired  in  intense  agony.  Can  the  history 
of  any  other  counfi-y  present  such  terrible  instances 
of  misery  and  starvation  ?  The  annals  of  Ireland  have 
been  dark,  indeed;  and  those  who  have  wilfully  cast 
that  gloom  upon  them,  must  emancipate  Africans,  and 
evangelize  the  rest  of  mankind,  for  a  century,  at  least, 
to  lay  the  ghosts  of  the  murdered  Irish. 

An  Irish  funeral  of  later  days,  with  its  attendant 
circumstances  of  poverty  and  gloom,  is  truly  calcu- 
lated to  stir  the  sensitive  heart  of  a  poet.  The  obse- 
quies display  the  meagre  results  of  attempts  to  bury 
the  dead  with  decency.  The  mourners  are  few,  but 
their  grief  is  sincere;  and  they  weep  for  the  lost  as 
they  would  be  wept  for  when  Death,  who  is  ever  walk- 
ing by  their  side,  lays  his  cold  hand  on  them.  During 
the  great  famine,  some  poor  wretches  perished  while 
preparing  funerals  for  their  friends.  In  the  following 
verses,  published  in  Howitt's  Journal,  of  the  1st  of  April, 
1847,  we  have  a  fine  delineation  of  an  Irish  funeral, 
such  as  only  a  poet  cpuld  give : — 


OF   ENGLAND.  807 


AN  IRISH  FUNERAL. 


BY   THE    AUTHOR   OF    "ORION. 


"Funerals  performed." — London  Trades. 

"  On  Wednesday,  the  remains  of  a  poor  woman,  who  died  of 
hunger,  were  carried  to  their  last  resting-place  by  three  women, 
and  a  blind  man  the  son-in-law  of  the  deceased.  The  distance 
between  the  wretched  hut  of  the  deceased  and  the  grave-yard  was 
nearly  three  miles." — Tuam  Herald. 


HEAVILY  plod 
Highroad  and  sod, 
With  the  cold  corpse  clod 
Whose  soul  is  with  God ! 

An  old  door's  the  hearse 
Of  the  skeleton  corpse, 
And  three  women  bear  it, 
With  a  blind  man  to  share  it : 
Over  flint,  over  bog, 
They  stagger  and  jog: — 
Weary,  and  hungry,  and  hopeless,  and  cold, 
They  slowly  bear  onward  the  bones  to  the  mould. 
Heavily  plod 
Highroad  and  sod, 
With  the  cold  corpse  clod, 
Whose  soul  is  with  God ! 

Barefoot  ye  go, 

Through  the  frost,  through  the  snow ; 

Unsteady  and  slow, 

Your  hearts  mad  with  woe ; 


308  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

Bewailing  and  blessing  the  poor  rigid  clod — 

The  dear  dead-and-cold  one,  whose  soul  is  with  God. 

Heavily  plod 

Highroad  and  sod, 

This  ruin  and  rod 

Are  from  man — and  not  God ! 


Now  out  spake  her  sister, — 

"  Can  we  be  quite  sure 
Of  the  mercy  of  Heaven, 

Or  that  Death  is  Life's  cure  ? 
A  cure  for  the  misery,  famine,  and  pains, 
Which  our  cold  rulers  view  as  the  end  of  their  gains  V9 

Heavily  plod 

Highroad  and  sod, 

With  the  cold  corpse  clod, 

Whose  soul  is  with  God  1 


"  In  a  land  where' s  plenty ," 

The  old  mother  said, — 
"  But  not  for  poor  creatures 

Who  pawn  rags  and  bed — • 
There's  plenty  for  rich  ones,  and  those  far  away, 
Who  drain  off  our  life-blood,  so  thoughtless  and  gay ! 

Heavily  plod 

Highroad  and  sod, 

With  the  cold  corpse  clod, 

Whose  soul  is  with  God ! 


Then  wailed  the  third  woman — 

"  The  darling  was  worth 
The  rarest  of  jewels 

That  shine  upon  earth. 

When  hunger  was  gnawi  ^  her — wasted  and  wild — 
She  shared  her  last  morsel*Rdth  my  little  child." 


OF   ENGLAND.  309 

Heavily  plod 
Highroad  and  sod, 
With  the  cold  corpse  clod, 
Whose  soul  is  with  God ! 

"  0  Christ !'  pray'd  the  blind  man, 

"  We  are  not  so  poor, 
Though  we  bend  'neath  the  dear  weight 

That  crushes  this  door ; 

For  we  know  that  the  grave  is  the  first  step  to  Heaven, 
And  a  birthright  we  have  in  the  riches  there  given." 
Heavily  plod, 
Highroad  and  sod, 
With  the  cold  corpse  clod, 
Whose  soul  is  with  God  ! 

What  wonder  if  the  evicted  peasants  of  Ireland, 
made  desperate  by  the  tyranny  of  the  landlords,  some- 
times make  "a  law  unto  themselves,"  and  slay  their 
oppressors!  Rebellion  proves  manhood  under  such 
circumstances.  Instances  of  landlords  being  mur- 
dered by  evicted  tenants  are  numerous.  In  the  fol- 
lowing sketch  we  have  a  vivid  illustration  of  this  phase 
of  Irish  life  : — 

"  The  moorland  was  wide,  level,  and  black ;  black  as  night,  if 
you  could  suppose  night  condensed  on  the  surface  of  the  earth,  and 
that  you  could  tread  on  solid  darkness  in  the  midst  of  day.  The 
day  itself  was  fast  dropping  into  night,  although  it  was  dreary  and 
gloomy  at  the  best ;  for  it  was  a  November  day.  The  moor,  for 
miles  around,  was  treeless  and  houseless ;  devoid  of  vegetation, 
except  heather,  which  clad  with  its  gloomy  frieze  coat  the  shivering 
landscape.  At  a  distance  you  could  discern,  through  the  misty 
atmosphere,  the  outline  of  mountains  apparently  as  bare  and  stony 
N* 


310  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

as  this  wilderness,  which  they  bounded.  There  were  no  fields,  no 
hedgerows,  no  marks  of  the  hand  of  man,  except  the  nakedness 
itself,  which  was  the  work  of  man  in  past  ages ;  when,  period  after 
period,  he  had  tramped  over  the  scene  with  fire  and  sword,  and 
left  all  that  could  not  fly  before  him,  either  ashes  to  be  scattered 
by  the  savage  winds,  or  stems  of  trees,  and  carcasses  of  men  trod- 
den into  the  swampy  earth.  As  the  Roman  historians  said  of 
other  destroyers,  *  They  created  solitude,  and  called  it  peace/ 
That  all  this  was  the  work  of  man,  and  not  of  Nature,  any  one 
spot  of  this  huge  and  howling  wilderness  could  testify,  if  you  would 
only  turn  up  its  sable  surface.  In  its  bosom  lay  thousands  of  an- 
cient oaks  and  pines,  black  as  ebony ;  which  told,  by  their  gigantic 
bulk,  that  forests  must  have  once  existed  on  this  spot,  as  rich  as 
the  scene  was  now  bleak.  Nobler  things  than  trees  lay  buried 
there ;  but  were,  for  the  most  part,  resolved  into  the  substance  of 
the  inky  earth.  The  dwellings  of  men  had  left  few  or  no  traces, 
for  they  had  been  consumed  in  flames ;  and  the  hearts  that  had 
loved,  and  suffered,  and  perished  beneath  the  hand  of  violence  and 
insult,  were  no  longer  human  hearts,  but  slime.  If  a  man  were 
carried  blindfold  to  that  place,  and  asked  when  his  eyes  were  un- 
bandaged  where  he  was,  he  would  say — *  Ireland  !' 

"  He  would  want  no  clue  to  the  identity  of  the  place,  but  the 
scene  before  him.  There  is  no  heath  like  an  Irish  heath.  There 
is  no  desolation  like  an  Irish  desolation.  Where  Nature  herself 
has  spread  the  expanse  of  a  solitude,  it  is  a  cheerful  solitude.  The 
air  flows  over  it  lovingly :  the  flowers  nod  and  dance  in  gladness  ; 
the  soil  breathes  up  a  spirit  of  wild  fragrance,  which  communicates 
a  buoyant  sensation  to  the  heart.  You  feel  that  you  tread  on 
ground  where  the  peace  of  God,  and  not  the  *  peace'  of  man  created 
in  the  merciless  hurricane  of  w^  has  sojourned :  where  the  sun 
shone  on  creatures  sporting  on  ^hound  or  on  tree,  as  the  Divine 
Goodness  of  the  Universe  meant  them  to  sport :  where  the  hunter 
disturbed  alone  the  enjoyment  of  the  lower  animals  by  his  own 
boisterous  joy :  where  the  traveller  sang  as  he  went  over  it,  because 
he  felt  a  spring  of  inexpressible  music  in  his  heart:  where  the 
weary  wayfarer  sat  beneath  a  bush,  and  blessed  God,  though  his 
limbs  ached  with  travel,  and  his  goal  was  far  off.  In  God's  deserts 


OF  ENGLAND*  311 

dwells  gladness ;  in  man's  deserts,  death.  A  melancholy  smites 
you  as  you  enter  them.  There  is  a  darkness  from  the  past  that 
envelopes  your  heart,  and  the  moans  and  sighs  of  ten-times  perpe* 
trated  misery  seem  still  to  live  in  the  very  winds. 

"  One  shallow  and  widely  spread  stream  struggled  through  the 
moor ;  sometimes  between  masses  of  gray  stone.  Sedges  and  the 
white-headed  cotton-rush  whistled  on  its  margin,  and  on  island-like 
expanses  that  here  and  there  rose  above  the  surface  of  its  middle 
course. 

"  I  have  said  that  there  was  no  sign  of  life ;  but  on  one  of  those 
gray  stones  stood  a  heron  watching  for  prey.  He  had  remained 
straight,  rigid,  and  motionless  for  hours.  Probably  his  appetite 
was  appeased  by  his  day's  success  among  the  trout  of  that  dark 
red-brown  stream,  which  was  coloured  by  the  peat  from  which  it 
oozed.  When  he  did  move,  he  sprang  up  at  once,  stretched  his 
broad  wings,  and  silent  as  the  scene  around  him,  made  a  circuit 
in  the  air;  rising  higher  as  he  went,  with  slow  and  solemn  flight. 
He  had  been  startled  by  a  sound.  There  was  life  in  the  desert  now. 
Two  horsemen  came  galloping  along  a  highway  not  far  distant,  and 
the  heron,  continuing  his  grave  gyrations,  surveyed  them  as  he 
went.  Had  they  been  travellers  over  a  plain  of  India,  an  Austrian 
waste,  or  the  pampas  of  South  America,  they  could  not  have  been 
grimmer  of  aspect,  or  more  thoroughly  children  of  the  wild.  They 
were  Irish  from  head  to  foot. 

"  They  were  mounted  on  two  spare  but  by  no  means  clumsy 
horses.  The  creatures  had  marks  of  blood  and  breed  that  had 
been  introduced  by  the  English  to  the  country.  They  could  claim, 
if  they  knew  it,  lineage  of  Arabia.  The  one  was  a  pure  bay,  the 
other  and  lesser,  was  black ;  but  both  were  lean  as  death,  haggard 
as  famine.  They  were  wet  with  the  speed  with  which  they  had 
been  hurried  along.  The  soil  of  the  damp  moorland,  or  of  the  field 
in  which,  during  the  day,  they  had  probably  been  drawing  the 
peasant's  cart,  still  smeared  their  bodies,  and  their  manes  flew  as 
wildly  and  untrimmed  as  the  sedge  or  the  cotton-rush  on  the  wastes 
through  which  they  careered.  Their  riders,  wielding  each  a  heavy 
stick  instead  of  a  riding-whip,  which  they  applied  ever  and  anon  to 
the  shoulders  or  flanks  of  their  smoking  animals,  were  mounted  on 


312  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

their  bare  backs,  and  guided  them  by  halter  instead  of  bridle.  They 
•were  a  couple  of  the  short  frieze-coated,  knee-breeches  and  gray- 
stocking  fellows  who  are  as  plentiful  on  Irish  soil  as  potatoes. 
From  beneath  their  narrow-brimmed,  old,  weather-beaten  hats, 
streamed  hair  as  unkemped  as  their  horses7  manes.  The  Celtic 
physiognomy  was  distinctly  marked — the  small  and  somewhat  up- 
turned nose;  the  black  tint  of  skin ;  the  eye  now  looking  gray,  now 
black;  the  freckled  cheek,  and  sandy  hair.  Beard  and  whiskers 
covered  half  the  face,  and  the  short  square-shouldered  bodies  were 
bent  forward  with  eager  impatience,  as  they  thumped  and  kicked 
along  their  horses,  muttering  curses  as  they  went. 

"  The  heron,  sailing  on  broad  and  seemingly  slow  vans,  still  kept 
them  in  view.  Anon,  they  reached  a  part  of  the  moorland  where 
traces  of  human  labour  were  visible.  Black  piles  of  peat  stood  ou 
the  solitary  ground,  ready,  after  a  summer's  cutting  and  drying. 
Presently  patches  of  cultivation  presented  themselves ;  plots  of 
ground  raised  on  beds,  each  a  few  feet  wide,  with  intervening 
trenches  to  carry  off  the  boggy  water,  where  potatoes  had  grown,  and 
small  fields  where  grew  more  stalks  of  ragwort  than  grass,  inclosed 
by  banks  cast  up  and  tipped  here  and  there  with  a  brier  or  a  stone. 
It  was  the  husbandry  of  misery  and  indigence.  The  ground  had 
already  been  freshly  manured  by  sea- weeds,  but  the  village — where 
was  it?  Blotches  of  burnt  ground,  scorched  heaps  of  rubbish, 
and  fragments  of  blackened  walls,  alone  were  visible.  Garden- 
plots  were  trodden  down,  and  their  few  bushes  rent  up,  or  hung 
with  tatters  of  rags.  The  two  horsemen,  as  they  hurried  by  with 
gloomy  visages,  uttered  no  more  than  a  single  word:  *  Eviction !' 

"  Further  on,  the  ground  heaved  itself  into  a  chaotic  confusion. 
Stony  heaps  swelled  up  here  and  there,  naked,  black,  and  barren: 
the  huge  bones  of  the  earth  protruded  themselves  through  her  skin. 
Shattered  rocks  arose,  sprinkled  with  bushes,  and  smoke  curled 
up  from  what  looked  like  mere  heaps  of  rubbish,  but  which  were 
.  in  reality  human  habitations.  Long  dry  grass  hissed  and  rustled 
in  the  wind  on  their  roofs,  (which  were  sunk  by-places,  as  if  falling 
in ;)  and  pits  of  reeking  filth  seemed  placed  exactly  to  prevent  ac- 
cess to  some  of  the  low  doors ;  while  to  others,  a  few  stepping-stones 
made  that  access  only  possible.  Here  the  two  riders  stopped,  and 


OF   ENGLAND.  313 

hurriedly  tying  their  steeds  to  an  elder-bush,  disappeared  in  one 
of  the  cabins. 

"  The  heron  slowly  sailed  on  to  the  place  of  its  regular  roost. 
Let  us  follow  it. 

"Far  different  was  this  scene  to  those  the  bird  had  left.  Lofty 
trees  darkened  the  steep  slopes  of  a  fine  river.  Rich  meadows  lay 
at  the  feet  of  woods  and  stretched  down  to  the  stream.  Herds  of 
cattle  lay  on  them,  chewing  their  cuds  after  the  plentiful  grazing 
of  the  day.  The  white  walls  of  a  noble  house  peeped,  in  the  dusk 
of  night,  through  the  fertile  timber  which  stood  in  proud  guardian- 
ship of  the  mansion ;  and  broad  winding  walks  gave  evidence  of  a 
place  where  nature  and  art  had  combined  to  form  a  paradise. 
There  were  ample  pleasure-grounds.  Alas !  the  grounds  around 
the  cabins  over  which  the  heron  had  so  lately  flown,  might  be  truly 
styled  pain-grounds. 

"  Within  that  home  was  assembled  a  happy  family.  There  was 
the  father,  a  fine-looking  man  of  forty.  Proud  you  would  have 
deemed  him,  as  he  sate  for  a  moment  abstracted  in  his  cushioned 
chair;  but  a  moment  afterward,  as  a  troop  of  children  came 
bursting  into  the  room,  his  manner  was  instantly  changed  into  one 
BO  pleasant,  so  playful,  and  so  overflowing  with  enjoyment,  that 
you  saw  him  only  as  an  amiable,  glad,  domestic  man.  The  mother, 
a  handsome  woman,  was  seated  already  at  the  tea-table;  and, 
in  another  minute,  sounds  of  merry  voices  and  childish  laughter 
were  mingled  with  the  jocose  tones  of  the  father,  and  the  playful 
accents  of  the  mother;  addressed,  now  to  one,  now  to  another  of 
the  youthful  group. 

"  In  due  time  the  merriment  was  hushed,  and  the  household 
assembled  for  evening  prayer.  A  numerous  train  of  servants  as- 
Bumed  their  accustomed  places.  The  father  read.  He  had  paused 
once  or  twice,  and  glanced  with  a  stern  and  surprised  expression 
toward  the  group  of  domestics,  for  he  heard  sounds  that  astonished 
him  from  one  corner  of  the  room  near  the  door.  He  went  on — 
'  Remember  the  children  of  Edom,  0  Lord,  in  the  day  of  judgment,* 
how  they  said,  Down  with  it,  down  with  it,  even  to  the  ground. 
0  daughter^of  Babylon,  wasted  with  misery,  yea,  happy  shall  he  be 
who  rewardeth  thee,  as  thou  hast  served  us  !' 

21 


314  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

"  There  was  a  burst  of  smothered  sobs  from  the  same  corner, 
and  the  master's  eye  flashed  with  a  strange  fire  as  he  again  darted 
a  glance  toward  the  offender.  The  lady  looked  equally  surprised, 
in  the  same  direction ;  then  turned  a  meaning  look  on  her  husband 
— a  warm  flush  was  succeeded  by  a  paleness  in  her  countenance, 
and  she  cast  down  her  eyes.  The  children  wondered,  but  were 
Btill.  Once  more  the  father's  sonorous  voice  continued — '  Give  us 
this  day  our  daily  bread,  and  forgive  us  our  trespasses  as  we  for- 
give them  that  trespass  against  us.'  Again  the  stifled  sound  was 
repeated.  The  brow  of  the  master  darkened  again — the  mother 
looked  agitated;  the  children's  wonder  increased;  the  master  closed 
the  book,  and  the  servants,  with  a  constrained  silence,  retired  from 
the  room. 

"  '  What  can  be  the  matter  with  old  Dennis?'  exclaimed  the  lady, 
the  moment  that  the  door  had  closed  on  the  household. — '  Oh !  what 
is  amiss  with  poor  old  Dennis !'  exclaimed  the  children. 

" '  Some  stupid  folly  or  other/  said  the  father,  morosely. 
'  Come !  away  to  bed,  children.  You  can  learn  Dennis's  troubles 
another  time/  The  children  would  have  lingered,  but  again  the 
words,  'Away  with  you  !'  in  a  tone  which  never  needed  repetition, 
were  decisive :  they  kissed  their  parents  and  withdrew.  In  a  few 
seconds  the  father  rang  the  bell.  '  Send  Dennis  Croggan  here/ 

"  The  old  man  appeared.  He  was  a  little  thin  man,  of  not  less 
than  seventy  years  of  age,  with  white  hair  and  a  dark  spare  coun- 
tenance. He  was  one  of  those  nondescript  servants  in  a  large 
Irish  house,  whose  duties  are  curiously  miscellaneous.  He  had, 
however,  shown  sufficient  zeal  and  fidelity  through  a  long  life,  to 
secure  a  warm  nook  in  the  servants'  hall  for  the  remainder  of  his 
days. 

"  Dennis  entered  with  an  humble  and  timid  air,  as  conscious 
that  he  had  deeply  offended ;  and  had  to  dread  at  least  a  severe 
rebuke.  He  bowed  profoundly  to  both  the  master  and  mistress. 

"  '  What  is  the  meaning  of  your  interruptions  during  the  pray- 
*ers,  Dennis?'  demanded  the  master  abruptly.  'Has  any  thing 
happened  to  you  ?' 

"'No,  sir/ 

"  'Any  thing  amiss  in  your  son's  family  ?' 


OF  ENGLAND.  315 

"  '  No,  your  honour/ 

"  The  interrogator  paused ;  a  storm  of  passion  seemed  slowly 
gathering  within  him.  Presently  he  asked  in  a  loud  tone,  '  What 
does  this  mean  ?  Was  there  no  place  to  vent  your  nonsense  in, 
but  in  this  room,  and  at  prayers  ?' 

"  Dennis  was  silent.  He  cast  an  imploring  look  at  the  master, 
then  at  the  mistress. 

"  '  What  is  the  matter,  good  Dennis  ?'  asked  the  lady,  in  a  kind 
tone.  '  Compose  yourself,  and  tell  us.  Something  strange  must 
have  happened  to  you/ 

"  Dennis  trembled  violently;  but  he  advanced  a  couple  of  paces, 
seized  the  back  of  a  chair  as  if  to  support  him,  and,  after  a  vain 
gasp  or  two,  declared,  as  intelligibly  as  fear  would  permit,  that  the 
prayer  had  overcome  him. 

"  *  Nonsense,  man  F  exclaimed  the  master,  with  fury  in  the  same 
face,  which  was  so  lately  beaming  with  joy  on  the  children.  *  Non- 
sense !  Speak  out  without  more  ado,  or  you  shall  rue  it.' 

"  Dennis  looked  to  the  mistress  as  if  he  would  have  implored 
her  intercession ;  but  as  she  gave  no  sign  of  it,  he  was  compelled 
to  speak ;  but  in  a  brogue  that  would  have  been  unintelligible  to 
English  ears.  We  therefore  translate  it : 

"  '  I  could  not  help  thinking  of  the  poor  people  at  Rathbeg,  when 
the  soldiers  and  police  cried,  "  Down  with  them!  down  with  them, 
even  to  the  ground  I"  and  then  the  poor  bit  cabins  came  down  all 
in  fire  and  smoke,  amid  the  howls  and  cries  of  the  poor  creatures. 

"  *  Oh !  it  was  a  fearful  sight,  your  honour — it  was,  indeed — to  see 
the  poor  women  hugging  their  babies,  and  the  houses  where  they 
were  born  burning  in  the  wind.  It  was  dreadful  to  see  the  old 
bedridden  man  lie  on  the  wet  ground  among  the  few  bits  of  furni- 
ture, and  groan  to  his  gracious  God  above.  Oh,  your  honour !  you 
never  saw  such  a  sight,  or — you — sure  a — it  would  never  have 
been  done  F 

"  Dennis  seemed  to  let  the  last  words  out  as  if  they  were  jerked 
from  him  by  a  sudden  shock. 

"  The  master,  whose  face  had  changed  during  this  speech  to  a 
livid  hue  of  passion,  his  eyes  blazing  with  rage,  was  in  the  act 
of  rushing  on  old  Dennis,  when  he  was  held  back  by  his  wife, 


316  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

who  exclaimed,  'Oswald!  be  calm;  let  us  hear  what  Dennis  has 
to  say.  Go  on,  Dennis,  go  on/ 

"  The  master  stood  still,  breathing  hard  to  overcome  his  rage. 
Old  Dennis,  as  if  seeing  only  his  own  thoughts,  went  on:  '0, 
bless  your  honour,  if  you  had  seen  that  poor  frantic  woman  when 
the  back  of  the  cabin  fell  and  buried  her  infant,  where  she  thought 
she  had  laid  it  safe  for  a  moment  while  she  flew  to  part  her  hus- 
band and  a  soldier  who  had  struck  the  other  children  with  the 
fiat  of  his  sword,  and  bade  them  to  troop  off.  Oh,  your  honour, 
but  it  was  a  killing  sight.  It  was  that  came  over  me  in  the 
prayer,  and  I  feared  that  we  might  be  praying  perdition  on  us 
all,  when  we  prayed  about  our  trespasses.  If  the  poor  creatures 
of  Rathbeg  should  meet  us,  your  honour,  at  Heaven's  gate  (I  was 
thinking)  and  say — These  are  the  heathens  that  would  not  let  us 
have  a  poor  hearthstone  in  poor  ould  Ireland. — And  that  was  all, 
your  honour,  that  made  me  misbehave  so;  I  was  just  thinking 
of  that,  and  I  could  not  help  it/ 

(t  l Begone,  you  old  fool!'  exclaimed  the  master;  and  Dennis 
disappeared  with  a  bow  and  an  alertness  that  would  have  done 
credit  to  his  earlier  years. 

"  There  was  a  moment's  silence  after  his  exit.  The  lady  turned 
to  her  husband,  and  clasping  his  arm  with  her  hands  and  looking 
into  his  darkened  countenance  with  a  look  of  tenderest  anxiety, 
said: — 

"  *  Dearest  Oswald,  let  me,  as  I  have  so  often  done,  once  more 
entreat  that  these  dreadful  evictions  may  cease.  Surely  there 
must  be  some  way  to  avert  them  and  to  set  your  property  right, 
without  such  violent  measures/ 

"  The  stern  proud  man  said,  '  Then  why,  in  the  name  of  Hea- 
ven, do  you  not  reveal  some  other  remedy?  why  do  you  not  en- 
lighten all  Ireland?  why  don't  you  instruct  Government?  The 
unhappy  wretches  who  have  been  swept  away  by  force  are  no 
people,  no  tenants  of  mine;  they  squatted  themselves  down,  as  a 
Bwarm  of  locusts  fix  themselves  while  a  green  blade  is  left ;  they 
obstruct  all  improvement;  they  will  not  till  the  ground  them- 
selves, nor  will  they  quit  it  to  allow  me  to  provide  more  industri- 
ous and  provident  husbandmen  to  cnltivate  it.  Land  that  teems 


OP   ENGLAND.  317 

with  fertility,  and  is  shut  out  from  bearing  and  bringing  forth 
food  for  man,  is  accursed.  Those  who  have  been  evicted  not  only 
rob  me,  but  their  more  industrious  fellows/ 

"  '  They  will  murder  us/  said  the  wife,  '  some  day  for  these 
things.  They  will  — ' 

"  Her  words  were  cut  short  suddenly  by  her  husband  starting, 
and  standing  in  a  listening  attitude.  '  Wait  a  moment/  he  said, 
with  a  peculiar  calmness,  as  if  he  had  just  got  a  fresh  thought ; 
and  his  lady,  who  did  not  comprehend  what  was  the  cause,  but 
hoped  that  some  better  influence  was  touching  him,  unloosed  her 
hands  from  his  arm.  *  Wait  just  a  moment/  he  repeated,  and 
stepped  from  the  room,  opened  the  front  door,  and,  without  his 
hat,  went  out. 

"  '  He  is  intending  to  cool  down  his  anger/  thought  his  wife ; 
'  he  feels  a  longing  for  the  freshness  of  the  air/  But  she  had  not 
caught  the  sound  which  had  startled  his  quicker,  because  more 
excited  ear;  she  had  been  too  much  engrossed  by  her  own  inter- 
cession with  him;  it  was  a  peculiar  whine  from  the  mastiff,  which 
was  chained  near  the  lodge-gate,  that  had  arrested  his  attention. 
He  stepped  out.  The  black  clouds  which  overhung  the  moor  had 
broken,  and  the  moon's  light  straggled  between  them. 

"  The  tall  and  haughty  man  stood  erect  in  the  breeze  and  lis- 
tened. Another  moment — there  was  a  shot,  and  he  fell  headlong 
upon  the  broad  steps  on  which  he  stood.  His  wife  sprang  with  a 
piercing  shriek  from  the  door  and  fell  on  his  corpse.  A  crowd 
of  servants  gathered  about  them,  making  wild  lamentations  and 
breathing  vows  of  vengeance.  The  murdered  master  and  the  wife 
were  borne  into  the  house. 

"  The  heron  soared  from  its  lofty  perch,  and  wheeled  with  ter- 
rified wings  through  the  night  air.  The  servants  armed  them- 
selves, and,  rushing  furiously  from  the  house,  traversed  the  sur- 
rounding masses  of  trees ;  fierce  dogs  were  let  loose,  and  dashed 
frantically  through  the  thickets :  all  was,  however,  too  late.  The 
soaring  heron  saw  gray  figures,  with  blackened  faces,  stealing 
away — often  on  their  hands  and  knees — down  the  hollows  of  the 
moorlands  toward  the  village,  where  the  two  Irish  horsemen  had, 


318  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

in  the  first  dusk  of  that  evening,  tied  their  lean  steeds  to  the  old 
elder  bush. 

"  Near  the  mansion  no  lurking  assassin  was  to  be  found.  Mean- 
while two  servants,  pistol  in  hand,  on  a  couple  of  their  master's 
horses,  scoured  hill  and  dale.  The  heron,  sailing  solemnly  on 
the  wind  above,  saw  them  halt  in  a  little  town.  They  thundered 
with  the  butt-ends  of  their  pistols  on  a  door  in  the  principal  street ; 
over  it  there  was  a  coffin-shaped  board,  displaying  a  painted  crown 
and  the  big-lettered  words,  *  POLICE  STATION/  The  mounted  ser- 
vants shouted  with  might  and  main.  A  night-capped  head  issued 
from  a  chamber  casement  with — *  What  is  the  matter?' 

"  '  Out  with  you,  police  !  out  with  all  your  strength,  and  lose 
not  a  moment.  Mr.  FitzGibbon,  of  Sporeen,  is  shot  at  his  own 
door.' 

"  The  casement  was  hastily  clapped  too,  and  the  two  horsemen 
galloped  forward  up  the  long,  broad  street,  now  flooded  with  the 
moon's  light.  Heads  full  of  terror  were  thrust  from  upper  win- 
dows to  inquire  the  cause  of  that  rapid  galloping,  but  ever  too 
late.  The  two  men  held  their  course  up  a  steep  hill  outside  of 
the  town,  where  stood  a  vast  building  overlooking  the  whole  place ; 
it  was  the  barracks.  Here  the  alarm  was  also  given. 

"  In  less  than  an  hour  a  mounted  troop  of  police  in  olive-green 
costume,  with  pistols  at  holster,  sword  by  side,  and  carbine  on  the 
arm,  were  trotting  briskly  out  of  town,  accompanied  by  the  two 
messengers,  whom  they  plied  with  eager  questions.  These  an- 
swered, and  sundry  imprecations  vented,  the  whole  party  increased 
their  speed,  and  went  on,  mile  after  mile,  by  hedgerow  and  open 
moorland,  talking  as  they  went. 

"  Before  they  reached  the  house  of  Sporeen,  and  near  the  village 
where  the  two  Irish  horsemen  had  stopped  the  evening  before, 
they  halted  and  formed  themselves  into  more  orderly  array.  A 
narrow  gully  was  before  them  on  the  road,  hemmed  in  on  each 
side  by  rocky  steeps,  here  and  there  overhung  with  bushes.  The 
commandant  bade  them  be  on  their  guard,  for  there  might  be 
danger  there.  He  was  right ;  for  the  moment  they  began  to  trot 
through  the  pass,  the  flash  and  rattle  of  fire-arms  from  the  thick- 
ets above  saluted  them,  followed  by  a  wild  yell.  In  a  second, 


OF   ENGLAND.  319 

several  of  their  number  lay  dead  or  dying  in  the  road.  The  fire 
was  returned  promptly  by  the  police,  but  it  was  at  random ;  for, 
although  another  discharge  and  another  howl  announced  that  the 
enemy  were  still  there,  no  one  could  be  seen.  The  head  of  the 
police  commanded  his  troops  to  make  a  dash  through  the  pass ; 
for  there  was  no  scaling  the  heights  from  this  side,  the  assailants 
having  warily  posted  themselves  there,  because  at  the  foot  of  the 
eminence  were  stretched  on  either  hand  impassable  bogs.  The 
troop  dashed  forward,,  firing  their  pistols  as  they  went,  but  were 
met  by  such  deadly  discharges  of  firearms  as  threw  them  into 
confusion,  killed  and  wounded  several  of  their  horses,  and  made 
them  hastily  retreat. 

"  There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  await  the  arrival  of  the  caval- 
ry ;  and  it  was  not  long  before  the  clatter  of  horses'  hoofs  and 
the  ringing  of  sabres  were  heard  on  the  road.  On  coming  up, 
the  troop  of  cavalry,  firing  to  the  right  and  left  on  the  hillsides, 
dashed  forward,  and,  in  the  same  instant,  cleared  the  gully  in 
safety,  the  police  having  kept  their  side  of  the  pass.  In  fact,  not 
a  single  shot  was  returned,  the  arrival  of  this  strong  force  having 
warned  the  insurgents  to  decamp.  The  cavalry,  in  full  charge, 
ascended  the  hills  to  their  summits.  Not  a  foe  was  to  be  seen, 
except  one  or  two  dying  men,  who  were  discovered  by  their  groans. 

"  The  moon  had  been  for  a  time  quenched  in  a  dense  mass  of; 
clouds,  which  now  were  blown  aside  by  a  keen  and  cutting  wind. 
The  heron,  soaring  over  the  desert,  could  now  see  gray-coated 
men  flying  in  different  directions  to  the  shelter  of  the  neighbour- 
ing hills.  The  next  day  he  was  startled  from  his  dreamy  reveries 
near  the  moorland  stream,  by  the  shouts  and  galloping  of -mingled 
police  and  soldiers,  as  they  gave  chase  to  a  couple  of  haggard, 
bare-headed,  and  panting  peasants.  These  were  soon  captured, 
and  at  once  recognised  as  belonging  to  the  evicted  inhabitants  of 
the  recently  deserted  village. 

"  Since  then  years  have  rolled  on.  The  heron,  who  had  been 
startled  from  his  quiet  haunts  by  these  things,  was  still  dwelling 
on  the  lofty  tree  with  his  kindred,  by  the  hall  of  Sporeen.  He 
had  reared  family  after  family  in  that  airy  lodgment,  "as  spring 
after  spring  came  round;  but  no  family,  after  that  fatal  time, 


320  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

had  ever  tenanted  the  mansion.  The  widow  and  children  had 
fled  from  it  so  soon  as  Mr.  FitzGibbon  had  been  laid  in  the  grave. 
The  nettle  and  dock  flourished  over  the  scorched  ruins  of  the  vil- 
lage of  Rathbeg;  dank  moss  and  wild  grass  tangled  the  proud 
drives  and  walks  of  Sporeen.  All  the  woodland  rides  and  plea- 
sure-grounds lay  obstructed  with  briers ;  and  young  trees  in  time 
'grew  luxuriantly  where  once  the  roller  in  its  rounds  could  not 
crush  a  weed ;  the  nimble  frolics  of  the  squirrel  were  now  ths 
only  merry  things  where  formerly  the  feet  of  lovely  children  had 
sprung  with  elastic  joy. 

"  The  curse  of  Ireland  was  on  the  place.  Landlord  and  tenant, 
gentleman  and  peasant,  each  with  the  roots  and  the  shoots  of 
many  virtues  in  their  hearts,  thrown  into  a  false  position  by  the 
mutual  injuries  of  ages,  had  wreaked  on  each  other  the  miseries 
sown  broadcast  by  their  ancestors.  Beneath  this  foul  spell  men 
who  would,  in  any  other  circumstances,  have  been  the  happiest 
and  the  noblest  of  mankind,  became  tyrants ;  and  peasants,  who 
would  have  glowed  with  grateful  affection  toward  them,  exulted 
in  being  their  assassins.  As  the  traveller  rode  past  the  decaying 
hall,  the  gloomy  woods,  and  waste  black  moorlands  of  Sporeen, 
he'read  the  riddle  of  Ireland's  fate,  and  asked  himself  when  an 
CEdipus  would  arise  to  solve  it." 

A  large  number  of  the  peasantry  of  Connemara,  a 
rocky  and  romantic  region,  are  among  the  most  recent 
evictions. 

"  These  hardy  mountaineers,  whose  lives,  and  the  lives  of  their 
fathers  and  great-grandfathers  have  been  spent  in  reclaiming  the 
barren  hills  where  their  hard  lot  has  been  cast,  were  the  victims 
of  a  series  of  oppressions  unparalleled  in  the  annals  of  Irish  mis- 
rule. They  were  thickly  planted  over  the  rocky  surface  of  Conne- 
mara  for  political  purposes.  In  the  days  of  the  40s.  freeholder, 
they  were  driven  to  the  hustings  like  a  flock  of  sheep,  to  register 
not  alone  one  vote,  but  in  many  instances  three  or  four  votes  each ; 
and  it  was  no  uncommon  thing  to  see  those  unfortunate  serfs 
evicted  from  their  holdings  when  an  election  had  terminated — 


OF  ENGLAND.  821 

not  that  they  refused  to  vote  according  to  the  wish  of  their  land- 
lords, but  because  they  did  not  go  far  enough  in  the  sin  of  per- 
jury and  the  diabolical  crime  of  impersonation.  When  they 
ceased  to  possess  any  political  importance,  they  were  cast  away 
like  broken  tools.  It  was  no  uncommon  thing,  in  the  wilds  of 
Connemara,  to  see  the  peasantry,  after  an  election,  coming  before 
the  Catholic  Archbishop,  when  holding  a  visitation  of  his  diocese, 
to  proclaim  openly  the  crime  of  impersonation  which  their  land- 
lords compelled  them  to  commit,  and  implore  forgiveness  for 
such.  Of  this  fact  we  have  in  the  town  of  Galway  more  than  one 
living  witness  ;  so  that,  while  every  thing  was  done,  with  few  ex- 
ceptions, to  demoralize  the  peasantry  of  Connemara,  and  plant  in 
their  souls  the  germs  of  that  slavery  which  is  so  destructive  to 
the  growth  of  industry,  enterprise,  or  manly  exertion — no  com- 
passion for  their  wants  was  ever  evinced — no  allowance  for  their 
poverty  and  inability  to  meet  the  rack-renting  demands  of  their 
landlords  was  ever  made." 

Perhaps,  it  requires  no  (Edipus  to  tell  what  will  be 
the  future  of  the  Irish  nation,  if  the  present  system  of 
slavery  is  maintained  by  their  English  conquerors.  If 
they  do  not  cease  to  exist  as  a  people,  they  will  con- 
tinue to  quaff  the  dark  waters  of  sorrow,  and  to  pay  a 
price,  terrible  to  think  of,  for  the  mere  privilege  of 
existence. 

During  the  famine  of  1847,  the  heartlessness  of  many 
Irish  landlords  was  manifested  by  their  utter  indifference 
to  the  multitudes  starving  around  their  well-supplied 
mansions.  At  that  period,  the  Kev.  A.  King,  of  Cork, 
wrote  to  the  Southern  Reporter  as  follows : — 

"  The  town  and  the  surrounding  country  for  many  miles  are 
possessed  by  twenty-six  proprietors,  whose  respective  yearly  in- 


322  THE   WHITE    SLAVES 

comes  vary  from  one  hundred  pounds,  or  less,  to  several  thou- 
sands. They  had  all  been  respectfully  informed  of  the  miserable 
condition  of  the  people,  and  solicited  to  give  relief.  Seventeen  of 
the  number  had  not  the  politeness  to  answer  the  letters  of  the 
committee,  four  had  written  to  say  they  would  not  contribute,  and 
the  remaining  five  had  given  a  miserable  fraction  of  what  they 
ought  to  have  contributed.  My  first  donation  from  a  small 
portion  of  a  small  relief  fund,  received  from  English  strangers, 
exceeded  the  aggregate  contributions  of  six-and-twenty  landed 
proprietors,  on  whose  properties  human  beings  were  perishing 
from  famine,  filth,  and  disease,  amid  circumstances  of  wretched- 
ness appalling  to  humanity  and  disgraceful  to  civilized  men  !  I 
believe  it  my  sacred  duty  to  gibbet  this  atrocity  in  the  press,  and 
to  call  on  benevolent  persons  to  loathe  it  as  a  monster  crime. 
Twenty-one  owners  of  property,  on  which  scores,  nay  hundreds, 
of  their  fellow-creatures  are  dying  of  hunger,  give  nothing  to  save 
their  lives  !  Are  they  not  virtually  guilty  of  wholesale  murder? 
I  ask  not  what  human  law  may  decide  upon  their  acts,  but  in  the 
name  of  Christianity  I  arraign  them  as  guilty  of  treason  against 
tbe  rights  of  humanity  and  the  laws  of  God  1" 

It  is  to  escape  the  responsibility  mentioned  by  Mr. 
King,  as  well  as  to  avoid  the  payment  of  poor-rates,  that 
the  landlords  resort  to  the  desolating  process  of  evic- 
tion. To  show  the  destructive  nature  of  the  tyrannical 
system  that  has  so  long  prevailed  in  Ireland,  we  will 
take  an  abstract  of  the  census  of  1841  and  1851. 

1841.  1851. 

Houses:  Inhabited 1,328,839  1,047,935 

Uninhabited,  built 52,203  65,159 

building...         3,318 2,113 

Total 1,384,360  1,115,207 

Families 1,472,287  1,207,002 


OF   ENGLAND.  323 

Persons:  Males..... 4,019,576  3,176,727 

Females 4,155,548  3,339,067 

Total 8,175,124  6,515,794 

Population  in  1841 8,175,124 

1851 6,515,794 

Decrease 1,659,330 

Or,  at  the  rate  of  20  per  cent. 

Population  in  1821 6,801,827 

"      1831 7,767,401 

"      1841 8,175,124 

1851 6,515,794 

Or,  286,030  souls  fewer  than  in  1821,  thirty  years  ago. 

"  We  shall  impress  the  disastrous  importance  of  the  reduction 
in  the  number  of  the  people  on  our  readers,  by  placing  before 
them  a  brief  account  of  the  previous  progress  of  the  population. 
There  is  good  reason  to  suppose,  that,  prior  to  the  middle  of  the 
last  century,  the  people  continually,  though  slowly,  increased ;  but 
from  that  time  something  like  authentic  but  imperfect  records  give 
the  following  as  their  numbers  at  successive  periods : — 

1754 2,372,634 

1767 2,544,276  ...  Increase  per  cent.    7'2 

1777 2,690,556  ...       "       5'7 

1785 2,845,932  ...       "       5-8 

1805 5,359,456  ...       "      84-0 

1813 5,937,858  ...       "      10'8 

1821 6,801,829  ...       "      14'6 

1831 7,767,401  -       "      14-9 

1841 8,115,124  ...       "       5-3 

1851 6,515,794  ...  Decrease  20'0 

"  Though  there  are  some  discrepancies  in  these  figures,  and  pro- 
bably the  number  assigned  to  1785  is  too  small,  and  that  assigned 
to  1805  too  large;  they  testify  uniformly  to  a  continual  increase  of 
the  people  for  eighty-seven  years,  from  1754  to  1841.  Now,  for 
the  first  time  in  nearly  a  century,  a  complete  change  has  set  in, 
and  the  population  has  decreased  in  the  last  ten  years  20  per  cent. 
It  is  1,659,330  less  than  in  1841,  and  less  by  286,033  than  in  1821. 


324  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

"But  this  is  not  quite  all.  The  census  of  1851  was  taken  68  days 
earlier  than  the  census  of  1841 ;  and  it  is  obvious,  if  the  same  rate 
of  decrease  continued  through  those  68  days,  as  has  prevailed  on 
the  average  through  the  ten  years,  that  the  whole  amount  of  de- 
crease would  be  so  much  greater.  Sixty-eight  days  is  about  the 
54th  part  of  ten  years — say  the  50th  part ;  and  the  50th  part  of 
the  deficiency  is  33,000  odd—say  30,000.  We  must  add  30,000, 
therefore,  to  the  1,659,330,  making  1,689,330,  to  get  the  true 
amount  of  the  diminution  of  the  people  in  ten  years. 

"Instead  of  the  population  increasing  in  a  healthy  manner,  im- 
plying an  increase  in  marriages,  in  families,  and  in  all  the  affec- 
tions connected  with  them,  and  implying  an  increase  in  general 
prosperity,  as  for  nearly  a  century  before,  and  now  amounting, 
as  we  might  expect,  to  8,600,000,  it  is  2,000,000  less.  This  is  a 
disastrous  change  in  the  life  of  the  Irish.  At  this  downward  rate, 
decreasing  20  per  cent,  in  ten  years,  five  such  periods  would  suffice 
to  exterminate  the  whole  population  more  effectually  than  the  In- 
dians have  been  exterminated  from  North  America.  Fifty  years 
of  this  new  career  would  annihilate  the  whole  population  of  Ire- 
land, and  turn  the  land  into  an  uninhabited  waste.  This  is  a 
terrible  reverse  in  the  condition  of  a  people,  and  is  the  more 
remarkable  because  in  the  same  period  the  population  of  Great 
Britain  has  increased  12  per  cent.,  and  because  there  is  no  other 
example  of  a  similar  decay  in  any  part  of  Europe  in  the  same 
time,  throughout  which  the  population  has  continued  to  increase, 
though  not  everywhere  equally,  nor  so  fast  as  in  Great  Britain. 
Indeed,  it  may  be  doubted  whether  the  annals  of  mankind  can 
supply,  in  a  season  of  peace — when  no  earthquakes  have  toppled 
down  cities,  no  volcanoes  have  buried  tJiem  beneath  their  ashes, 
and  no  inroads  of  the  ocean  have  occurred — such  wholesale  dimi- 
nution of  the  population  and  desolation  of  the  country. 

"  The  inhabited  houses  in  Ireland  have  decreased  from  1,328,839 
in  1841  to  1,047,735  in  1851,  or  281,104,  (21-2  per  cent.,)  and 
consequently  more  than  the  population,  who  are  now  worse  lodged 
and  more  crowded  in  relation  to  houses  than  they  were  in  1841. 
As  the  uninhabited  houses  have  increased  only  12,951,  no  less 
than  268,153  houses  must  have  been  destroyed  in  the  ten  years. 


OF   ENGLAND.  325 

That  informs  us  of  the  extent  of  the  '  clearances'  of  which  we 
have  heard  so  much  of  late ;  and  the  1,659,300  people  less  in  the 
country  is  an  index  to  the  number  of  human  beings  who  inhabited 
the  houses  destroyed.  We  must  remember,  too,  that  within  the 
period  a  number  of  union  workhouses  have  been  built  in  Ireland, 
capable  of  accommodating  308,885  persons,  and  that,  besides  the 
actual  diminution  of  the  number  of  the  people,  there  has  been  a 
change  in  their  habits,  about  300,000  having  become  denizens  of 
workhouses,  who,  prior  to  1841,  lived  in  their  own  separate  huts. 
With  distress  and  destruction  pauperism  has  also  increased. 

"  The  decrease  has  not  been  equal  for  the  males  and  females ; 
the  numbers  were  as  follows ; — 

1841.  1851. 

Males 4,019,576  ...  3,176,124  Decrease  20*9  per  cent. 

Females 4,155,548  ...  3,336,067        "        29*6 

"  The  females  now  exceed  the  males  by  162,943,  or  2  per  cent, 
on  the  whole  population.  It  is  not,  however,  that  the  mortality 
has  been  greater  among  the  males  than  the  females,  but  that  more 
of  the  former  than  of  the  latter  have  escaped  from  the  desolation. 

"  Another  important  feature  of  the  returns  is  the  increase  of 
the  town  population : — Dublin,  22,124,  or  9  per  cent. ;  Belfast, 
24,352,  or  32  per  cent. ;  Galway,  7422,  or  43  per  cent. ;  Cork, 
5765,  or  7  per  cent.  Altogether,  the  town  population  has  in- 
creased 71,928,  or  nearly  1  per  cent.,  every  town  except  London- 
derry displaying  the  same  feature ;  and  that  increase  makes  the 
decrease  of  the  rural  population  still  more  striking.  The  whole 
deerease  is  of  the  agricultural  classes :  Mr.  O'ConnelPs  *  finest 
pisantry'  are  the  sufferers." 

The  London  Illustrated  News,  in  an  article  upon  the 
census,  says — 

"  The  causes  of  the  decay  of  the  people,  subordinate  to  ineffi- 
cient employment  and  to  wanting  commerce  and  manufactures, 
are  obviously  great  mortality,  caused  by  the  destruction  of  the 
potatoes  and  the  consequent  want  of  food,  the  clearance  system, 
emigration.  From  the  retarded  increase  of  the  population 
O 


326  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

between  1831  and  1841 — only  5.3  per  cent.,  while  in  the  previous 
ten  years  it  had  been  nearly  15  per  cent. — it  may  be  inferred 
that  the  growth  of  the  population  was  coming  to  a  stand-still 
before  1841,  and  that  the  late  calamities  only  brought  it  down  to 
its  means  of  continued  subsistence,  according  to  the  distribution 
of  property  and  the  occupations  of  the  people.  The  potato  rot, 
in  1846,  was  a  somewhat  severer  loss  of  that  root  than  had  before 
fallen  on  the  Irish,  who  have  suffered  occasionally  from  famines 
ever  since  their  history  began ;  and  it  fell  so  heavily  on  them 
then,  because  they  were  previously  very  much  and  very  generally 
impoverished.  Thousands,  and  even  millions,  of  them  subsisted 
almost  exclusively  on  lumpers,  the  very  worst  kind  of  potatoes, 
and  were  reduced  in  health  and  strength  when  they  were  over- 
taken by  the  dearth  of  1846.  The  general  smallness  of  their 
consumption,  and  total  abstinence  from  the  use  of  tax  paying 
articles,  is  made  painfully  apparent  by  the  decrease  of  the  popu- 
lation of  Ireland  having  had  no  sensible  influence  in  reducing  the 
revenue.  They  were  half  starved  while  alive.  Another  remarka- 
ble fact  which  we  must  notice  is,  that,  while  the  Irish  population 
have  thus  been  going  to  decay,  the  imports  and  exports  of  the 
empire  have  increased  in  a  much  more  rapid  ratio  than  the 
population  of  Great  Britain.  For  them,  therefore,  exclusively,  is 
the  trade  of  the  empire  carried  on,  and  the  Irish  who  have  been 
swept  away,  without  lessening  the  imports  and  exports,  have  had 
no  share  in  our  commerce.  It  is  from  these  facts  apparent,  that, 
while  they  have  gone  to  decay,  the  population  of  Great  Britain 
have  increased  their  well-being  and  their  enjoyments  much  more 
than  their  numbers.  We  need  not  remind  our  readers  of  the 
dreadful  sufferings  of  the  Irish  in  the  years  1847, 1848,  and  1849; 
for  the  accounts  we  then  published  of  them  were  too  melancholy 
to  be  forgotten.  As  an  illustration,  we  may  observe  that  the 
Irish  Poor-law  Commissioners,  in  their  fourth  report,  dated  May 
5,  1851,  boast  that  the  *  worst  evils  of  the  famine,  such  as  the 
occurrence  of  deaths  by  the  wayside,  a  high  rate  of  mortality  in 
the  workhouses,  and  the  prevalence  of  dangerous  and  contagious 
diseases  in  or  out  of  the  workhouse,  have  undergone  a  very  ma- 
terial abatement/  There  have  been,  then,  numerous  deaths  by 


OF  ENGLAND.  327 

the  wayside,  alarming  contagious  diseases,  and  great  mortality 
in  the  workhouses." 

The  Poor-law  Commissioners  kept  a  most  mysterious 
silence  during  the  worst  period  of  the  famine ;  and,  it 
was  only  when  the  horrors  of  that  time  were  known  to 
the  whole  civilized  world  that  they  reported  the  "abate- 
ment of  the  evils/7  Perhaps,  they  had  become  so  ac- 
customed to  witnessing  misery  in  Ireland  that  even  tho 
famine  years  did  not  startle  them  into  making  a 

humane  appeal  to  the  British  government  upon  behalf 

•  » 

of  the  sufferers. 

The  Illustrated  News,  in  the  same  article  we  have 
quoted  above,  says,  quite  sensibly,  but  with  scarcely  a 
due  appreciation  of  the  causes  of  Ireland's  decay — 

"  The  decline  of  the  population  has  been  greatest  in  Connaught; 
now  the  Commissioners  tell  us  that  in  1847  the  maximum  rate 
of  mortality  in  the  workhouses  of  that  province  was  43.6  per 
week  in  a  thousand  persons,  so  that  in  about  23  weeks  at  this 
rate  the  whole  1000  would  be  dead.  The  maximum  rate  of 
mortality  in  all  the  workhouses  in  that  year  was  25  per  1000 
weekly,  or  the  whole  1000  would  die  in  something  more  than  39 
weeks.  That  was  surely  a  very  frightful  mortality.  It  took  place 
among  that  part  of  the  population  for  which  room  was  found  in 
the  workhouses ;  and  among  the  population  out  of  the  workhouses 
perishing  by  the  wayside,  the  mortality  must  have  been  still  more 
frightful.  We  are  happy  to  believe,  on  the  assurance  of  the  com- 
missioners, that  matters  are  now  improved,  that  workhouse  ac- 
commodation is  to  be  had — with  one  exception,  Kilrush — ;for  all 
who  need  it ;  that  the  expense  of  keeping  the  poor  is  diminished ; 
that  contagious  disorders  are  less  frequent,  and  that  the  rate  of 
mortality  has  much  declined.  But  the  statement  that  such  im- 


328  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

provements  have  taken  place,  implies  the  greatness  of  the  past 
Bufferings.  There  can  be  no  doubt,  therefore,  that  the  decay  of 
the  population  has  partly  arisen  from  increased  mortality  on  the 
one  hand,  and  from  decreasing  marriages  and  decreasing  births 
on  the  other.  Now  that  the  Irish  have  a  poor-law  fairly  adminis- 
tered, we  may  expect  that,  in  future,  such  terrible  scenes  as  were 
witnessed  in  1847-49  will  not  again  occur.  But  the  state  which 
authorized  the  landlords,  by  a  law,  to  clear  their  estates  of  the 
peasantry,  as  if  they  were  vermin,  destroying,  as  we  have  seen, 
268,153  dwellings,  without  having  previously  imposed  on  those 
landlords  the  obligation  of  providing  for  the  people,  did  a  great 
wrong,  and  the  decay  of  the  people  now  testifies  against  it. 

"  With  reference  to  emigration — the  least  objectionable  mode  of 
getting  rid  of  a  population — there  are  no  correct  returns  kept  of 
the  number  of  Irish  who  emigrate,  because  a  great  part  of  them 
go  from  Liverpool,  and  are  set  down  in  the  returns  as  emigrants 
from  England.  It  is  supposed  by  those  best  acquainted  with  the 
subject,  that  more  than  nine-tenths  of  the  emigrants  from  Liver- 
pool are  Irish.  Taking  that  proportion,  therefore,  and  adding  it 
to  the  emigrants  who  proceed  direct  from  Ireland,  the  number 
of  Irish  emigrants  from  1842  to  the  present  year  was — 


1843. 39,549 

1844 55,910 

1845 76,523 

1846 106,767 


Total,  4  years,    278,749 


1*47 214,970 

18^ 177,720 

1849    208,759 

1850 207,853 


Total,  4  years,     809,302 


Total,  8  years 1,088,051. 

"  If  we  add  70,000  for  the  two  first  years  of  the  decennial  period 
not  included  in  the  return,  we  shall  have  1,158,051  as  the  total 
emigration  of  the  ten  years.  It  was  probably  more  than  that — 
it  could  not  well  have  been  less.  To  this  we  must  add  the  number 
of  Irish  who  came  to  England  and  Scotland,  of  whom  no  account 
is  kept.  If  we  put  them  down  at  30,000  a  year,  we  shall  have 
for  tlie  ten  years  300,000 ;  or  the  total  expatriation  of  the  Irish  in 
the  ten  years  may  be  assumed  at  1,458,000,  or  say  1,500,000.  At 


OF   ENGLAND.  329 

first  sight  this  appears  a  somewhat  soothing  explanation  of 
the  decline  of  the  Irish  population ;  but,  on  being  closely  ex- 
amined, it  diminishes  the  evil  very  little  in  one  sense,  and  threat- 
ens to  enhance  it  in  another. 

"  So  far  as  national  strength  is  concerned,  it  is  of  no  conse- 
quence whether  the  population  die  out  or  emigrate  to  another  state, 
except  that,  if  the  other  state  be  a  rival  or  an  enemy,  it  may  be 
worse  for  the  parent  state  that  the  population  emigrate  than  be 
annihilated.  In  truth,  the  Irish  population  in  the  United  States, 
driven  away  formerly  by  persecution,  have  imbittered  the  feel- 
ings of  the  public  there  against  England.  Emigration  is  only 
very  beneficial,  therefore,  when  it  makes  room  for  one  at  home 
for  every  one  removed.  Such  is  the  emigration  from  England  to 
her  colonies  or  to  the  United  States,  with  which  she  has  intimate 
trade  relations ;  but  such  is  not  the  case  with  the  emigration 
from  Ireland,  for  there  we  find  a  frightful  void.  No  one  fills  the 
emigrant's  place.  He  flies  from  the  country  because  he  cannot 
live  in  it ;  and  being  comparatively  energetic,  we  may  infer  that 
few  others  can.  In  the  ordinary  course,  had  the  1,500,000  ex- 
patriated people  remained,  nearly  one-third  of  them  would  have 
died  in  the  ten  years;  they  would  have  increased  the  terrible 
mortality,  and,  without  much  adding  to  the  present  number  of 
the  people,  would  have  added  to  the  long  black  catalogue  of 
death. 

"  For  the  emigrants  themselves  removal  is  a  great  evil,  a  mere 
flying  from  destruction.  The  Poor-law  Commissioners  state  that 
the  number  of  pauper  emigrants  sent  from  Ireland  in  1850  was 
about  1800,  or  less  than  one  per  cent,  of  the  whole  emigration ; 
the  bulk  of  the  emigrants  were  not  paupers,  but  persons  of  some 
means  as  well  as  of  some  energy.  They  were  among  the  best 
of  the  population,  and  they  carried  off  capital  with  them — leaving 
the  decrepit,  the  worn-out,  and  the  feeble  behind  them ;  tho 
mature  and  the  vigorous,  the  seed  of  future  generations,  went  out 
of  the  land,  and  took  with  them  the  means  of  future  increase. 
We  doubt,  therefore,  whether  such  an  emigration  as  that  from 
Ireland  within  the  last  four  years  will  not  be  more  fatal  to  its 
future  prosperity  than  had  the  emigrants  swelled  the  mortality  at 


330  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

home.  All  the  circumstances  now  enumerated  tend  to  establish 
the  conclusion,  that,  for  the  state,  and  for  the  people  who  remain 
behind,  it  is  of  very  little  consequence  whether  a  loss  of  popula- 
tion, such  as  that  in  Ireland,  be  caused  by  an  excessive  mortality 
or  excessive  emigration. 

"  To  the  emigrants  themselves,  after  they  have  braved  the  pain 
of  the  separation  and  the  difficulties  of  the  voyage,  and  after  they 
are  established  in  a  better  home,  the  difference  is  very  great ;  but 
it  may  happen  that,  to  Ireland  as  a  state,  their  success  abroad 
will  be  rather  dangerous  than  beneficial.  On  the  whole,  emigra- 
tion does  not  account  for  the  decrease  of  people ;  and  if  it  did 
account  for  it,  would  not  afford  us  the  least  consolation." 

In  the  above  article,  the  Kilrush  Union  is  mentioned 
as  an  exception  to  the  general  improvement  in  Ireland, 
in  respect  to  workhouse  accommodation.  Mr.  Sidney 
Godolphin  Osborne,  the  able  and  humane  correspondent 
of  the  London  Times,  can  enlighten  us  in  regard  to 
the  treatment  of  the  poor  of  Kilrush  in  1851. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  be  compelled  again  to  call  public  attention  to 
the  state  of  things  in  the  above  ill-fated  union.  I  do  not  dispute 
the  interest  which  must  attach  to  the  transactions  of  the  Encum- 
bered Estates  Court,  the  question  of  the  so-called  Godless  Col- 
leges, the  campaign  now  commencing  against  the  national 
schools,  and  the  storm  very  naturally  arising  against  the  Papal 
Aggression  Bill,  in  a  country  so  Catholic  as  Ireland.  But  I  must 
claim  some  interest  upon  the  part  of  the  British  public  on  the 
question  of  life  and  death  now  cruelly  working  out  in  the  West  of 
Ireland. 

"  The  accommodation  for  paupers  in  the  Kilrush  union-houses 
was,  in  the  three  weeks  ending  the  8th,  15th,  and  22d  of  this 
month,  calculated  for  4654  ;  in  the  week  ending  the  8th  of  March 
there  were  5005  inmates,  56  deaths  ! — in  the  week  ending  the  15th 
of  March,  4980  inmates,  68  deaths  1 — in  the  week  ending  the 


OF   ENGLAND.  331 

22d  of  March,  4868  inmates,  79  deaths!  That  is  to  say,  there 
were  203  deaths  in  21  days.  I  last  week  called  your  attention  to 
the  fact  of  the  overcrowding  and  the  improper  feeding  of  the  poor 
creatures  in  these  houses,  as  proved  by  a  report  made  by  the 
medical  officer  on  the  1st  of  February,  repeated  on  the  22d,  and, 
at  the  time  of  my  letter,  evidently  unheeded.  Behold  the  result — 
79  deaths  in  a  population  of  under  5000  in  one  week  !  I  have,  I 
regret  to  say,  besides  these  returns,  a  large  mass  of  returns  of 
deaths  outside  the  house,  evidently  the  result  of  starvation ;  on 
some,  coroners' juries  have  admitted  it  to  be  so. 

"  Eye-witnesses  of  the  highest  respectability,  as  well  as  my  own 
paid  agent,  report  to  me  the  state  of  the  town  and  neighbourhood 
of  the  workhouse  on  the  admission-days  in  characters  quite  hor- 
rifying: between  100  and  200  poor,  half-starved,  almost  naked 
creatures  may  be  seen  by  the  roadside,  under  the  market-house — 
in  short,  wherever  the  famished,  the  houseless,  and  the  cold  can 
get  for  a  night's  shelter.  Many  have  come  twelve  Irish  miles  to 
seek  relief,  and  then  have  been  refused,  though  their  sunken  eyes 
and  projecting  bones  write  the  words  '  destitute'  and  '  starving' 
in  language  even  the  most  callous  believers  in  pauper  cunning 
could  not  misunderstand.  I  will  defy  contradiction  to  the  fact, 
that  the  business  of  the  admission-days  is  conducted  in  a  way 
which  forbids  common  justice  to  the  applicants ;  it  is  a  mere 
mockery  to  call  the  scene  of  indecent  hurry  and  noisy  strife  be- 
tween guardians,  officers,  and  paupers,  which  occupies  the  few 
hours  weekly  given  to  this  work,  a  hearing  of  applicants. 

"  I  have  before  me  some  particulars  of  a  visit  of  inspection  paid 
to  these  houses  a  short  time  since  by  a  gentleman  whose  position 
and  whose  motives  are  above  all  cavil  for  respectability  and  in- 
tegrity ;  I  have  a  mass  of  evidence,  voluntarily  given  me,  from 
sources  on  which  I  can  place  implicit  confidence,  all  tending  to 
one  and  the  same  point.  The  mortality  so  fast  increasing  can 
only  be  ascribed  to  the  insufficiency  of  the  out-relief  given  to  the 
destitute,  and  the  crowding  and  improper  diet  of  the  in-door  pau- 
pers. From  the  published  statement  of  the  half-year  ending 
September  29,  18.50,  signed  '  C.  M.  Vandeleur,  chairman/  I  find 
there  were  1014  deaths  in  that  said  half-year.  Average  weekly 


332  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

cost  per  head — food,  ll^d. ;  clothing,  2d.  I  shall  look  with 
anxiety  for  the  return  of  the  half-year  just  ended ;  it  will  be  a 
curious  document,  as  emanating  from  a  board  the  chairman  of 
which  has  just  trumpeted  in  your  columns  with  regard  to  this 
union,  'that  the  lands,  with  little  exception,  are  well  occupied, 
and  a  spirit  of  industry  visible  among  all  classes/  It  will  at 
least  prove  a  more  than  usual  occupation  of  burying-land,  and  a 
spirit  of  increased  energy  in  the  gray^e-digging  class. 

"  With  regard  to  the  diet  of  the  old  and  infirm,  I  can  conceive 
it  possible  that  since  the  publication  of  my  last  letter  there  may 
be  some  improvement,  though  I  am  not  yet  aware  of  it.  I  am 
now  prepared  to  challenge  all  contradiction  to  the  fact  that  the 
diet  has  been  not  only  short  of  what  it  ought  to  be  by  the  pre- 
scribed dietary,  but,  in  the  case  of  the  bread,  it  has  frequently 
been  unfit  for  human  food — such  as  very  old  or  very  young  people 
could  only  touch  under  the  pressure  of  famine,  and  could  not, 
under  any  circumstances,  sustain  health  upon. 

"Let  the  authorities  investigate  the  deaths  of  the  last  six 
.  weeks,  taking  the  cause  of  death  from  the  medical  officers,  and 
how  soon  after  admission  each  individual  died ;  they  will  then, 
with  me,  cease  to  wonder  that  the  poor  creatures  who  come  in 
starving  should  so  soon  sink,  when  the  sanatory  condition  of  the 
law's  asylum  is  just  that  which  would  tell  most  severely  even  on 
the  most  healthy.  I  admit,  sir,  that  Kilrush  market  may  be  well 
supplied  with  cheap  food,  but  the  evicted  peasantry  have  no 
money,  and  vendors  do  not  give.  I  admit  that  the  season  for  the 
growth  of  nettles,  and  cornkale,  and  other  weeds,  the  of  late 
years  normal  food  of  these  poor  creatures,  has  not  yet  set  in,  and 
this  I  do  not  deny  is  all  against  them.  I  leave  to  the  British 
public  the  forming  any  conclusion  they  like  from  this  admission. 

"  What  I  now  contend  for  is  this — that  in  a  particular  part  of 
Great  Britain  there  are  certain  workhouses,  asylums  for  the  des- 
titute, supervised  by  salaried  inspectors.,  directly  under  the  cog- 
nizance of  the  Government,  in  which  the  crowding  of  the  sick  is 
most  shameful,  the  diet  equally  so.  The  mortality  for  the  weeks 
ending  January  25  to  March  22 — 484,  upon  a  population  which 
in  those  weeks  never  exceeded  5200  souls !  I  believe  these  to  be 


OF   ENGLAND.  333 

facts  which  cannot  be  disputed,  and  I  claim  on  them  the  imme- 
diate interference  of  the  Government,  and  the  more  especially  as 
the  chairman  of  this  union  makes  a  public  favourable  comparison 
between  it  and  the  union  of  Ennistymon,  in  the  same  county.  I 
am  myself  prepared,  on  very  short  notice,  to  go  over  at  my  own 
expense  with  any  person  of  respectability  from  this  country,  ap- 
pointed by  Government,  and  I  have  no  doubt  we  shall  prove  that 
I  have,  if  any  thing,  understated  matters  ;  if  so,  am  I  wrong,  sir, 
in  saying,  that  such  a  state  of  things,  within  a  twenty  hours' 
journey  from  London,  is  in  a  sad  and  shameful  contrast  to  the 
expected  doings  of  the  '  World's  Fair'  on  English  ground  ?  When, 
tlie  other  day,  I  looked  on  the  Crystal  Palace,  and  thought  of  Kil- 
rush  workhouse,  as  I  have  seen  it  and  now  know  it  to  ~be,  I  confess  I 
felt,  as  a  Christian  and  the  subject  of  a  Christian  Government, 
utter  disgust.  Again,  sir,  I  thank  you  from  my  heart  for  your 
indulgence  to  these  my  cries  for  justice  for  Ireland." 

Alas !  poor  country,  where  each  hour  teems  with  a 
new  grievance ;  where  tyranny  is  so  much  a  custom 
that  the  very  institutions  which  have  charity  written 
upon  their  front  are  turned  to  dangerous  pest-houses, 
slaving  shops,  or  tombs  ;  where  to  toil  even  to  extremi- 
ty is  to  be  rewarded  with  semi-starvation  in  styes,  and, 
perhaps,  by  sudden  eviction,  and  a  grave  by  the  way-  . 
side ;  where  to  entertain  certain  religious  convictions  is 
to  invite  the  whips  of  persecution,  and  the  particular 
tyranny  of  the  landlord  who  adheres  to  the  Church  of 
England ;  where  to  speak  the  faith  of  the  heart,  the 
opinions  of  the  mind,  is  to  sacrifice  the  food  doled  out 
by  the  serf-holders ;  where  to  live  is  to  be  considered  a 
glorious  mercy — to  hope,  something  unfit  for  common 

men. 

0* 


334  THE  WHITE  SLAVES 

The  struggles  and  achievements  of  Con  McNale,  as 
related  in  "  Household  Words/'  give  us  a  tolerably 
truthful  representation  of  the  milder  features  of  Irish 
peasant  life.  Con  had  better  luck  than  most  of  his  class, 
and  knew  better  how  to  improve  it.  Yet  the  circum- 
stances of  his  existence  were  certainly  not  those  of  a 
freeman : — 

"  My  father,"  said  he,  "  lived  under  ould  Squire  Kilkelly,  an* 
for  awhile  tinded  his  cattle ;  but  the  Squire's  gone  out  iv  this  part 
iv  the  counthry,  to  Australia  or  some  furrin  part,  an'  the  men- 
tioned house  (mansion-house)  an'  the  fine  property  was  sould,  so 
it  was,  for  little  or  no  thin',  for  the  fightin'  was  over  in  furrin 
parts ;  Boney  was  put  down,  an'  there  was  no  price  for  corn  or 
cattle,  an'  a  jontleman  from  Scotland  came  an'  bought  the  istate. 
We  were  warned  by  the  new  man  to  go,  for  he  tuk  in  his  own 
hand  all  the  in-land  about  the  domain,  bein'  a  grate  farmer.  He 
put  nobody  in  our  little  place,  but  pulled  it  down,  an'  he  guv 
father  a  five-guinea  note,  but  my  father  was  ould  an'  not  able  to 
face  the  world  agin,  an'  he  went  to  the  town  an'  tuk  a  room — a 
poor,  dirty,  choky  place  it  was  for  him,  myself,  and  sisther  to  live 
in.  The  neighbours  were  very  kind  an'  good  though.  Sister 
Bridget  got  a  place  wid  a  farmer  hereabouts,  an'  I  tuk  the  world 
on  my  own  sho  wider  s.  I  had  no  thin'  at  all  but  the  rags  I  stud 
up  in,  an'  they  were  bad  enuf.  Poor  Biddy  got  a  shillin'  ad- 
vanced iv  her  wages  that  her  masther  was  to  giv  her.  She  guv 
it  me,  for  I  was  bent  on  goin'  toward  Belfast  to  look  for  work. 
All  along  the  road  I  axed  at  every  place ;  they  could  giv  it  me, 
but  to  no  good ;  except  when  I  axed,  they'd  giv  me  a  bowl  iv 
broth,  or  a  piece  iv  bacon,  or  an  oaten  bannock,  so  that  I  had  my 
shillin'  to  the  fore  when  I  got  to  Belfast. 

"  Here  the  heart  was  near  lavin'  me  all  out  intirely.  I  went 
wandtherin'  down  to  the  quay  among  the  ships,  and  what  should 
there  be  but  a  ship  goin'  to  Scotland  that  very  night  wid  pigs. 
In  throth  it  was  fun  to  see  the  sailors  at  cross-purposes  wid  ;em, 


OF   ENGLAND.  335 

for  they  didn't  know  the  natur  iv  the  bastes.  I  did.  I  knew  how 
to  coax  'em.  I  set  to  an'  I  deludhered  an'  coaxed  the  pigs,  an' 
by  pullin'  them  by  the  tail,  knowing  that  if  they  took  a  fancy  I 
wished  to  pull  'em  back  out  of  the  ship  they'd  run  might  an'  main 
into  her,  and  so  they  did.  Well,  the  sailors  were  mightily  divart- 
ed,  an'  when  the  pigs  was  aboord  I  wint  down  to  the  place;  an' 
the  short  iv  it  is  that  in  three  days  I  was  in  Glasgow  town,  an' 
the  captain  an'  the  sailors  subschribed  up  tin  shillms  an'  guv  it 
into  my  hand.  Well,  I  bought  a  raping-hook,  an'  away  I  trudged 
till  I  got  quite  an'  clane  into  the  eounthry,  an'  the  corn  was  here 
and  there  fit  to  cut.  At  last  I  goes  an'  ax  a  farmer  for  work.  He 
thought  I  was  too  wake  to  be  paid  by  the  day,  but  one  field  havin' 
one  corner  fit  to  cut,  an'  the  next  not  ready,  '  Paddy,'  says  he, 
'  you  may  begin  in  that  corner,  an'  I'll  pay  yees  by  the  work  yees 
do,'  an'  he  guv  me  my  breakfast  an'  a  pint  of  beer.  Well,  I  never 
quit  that  masther  the  whole  harvest,  an'  when  the  raping  was 
over  I  had  four  goolden  guineas  to  carry  home,  besides  that  I  was 
as  sthrong  as  a  lion.  Yees  would  wonder  how  glad  the  sailors 
was  to  see  me  back  agin,  an'  ne'er  a  farthin'  would  they  take 
back  iv  their  money,  but  tuk  me  over  agin  to  Belfast,  givin'  me 
the  hoighth  of  good  thratemint  of  all  kinds.  I  did  not  stay  an 
hour  in  Belfast,  but  tuk  to  the  road  to  look  afther  the  ould  man 
an'  little  Biddy.  Well,  sorrows  the  tidins  I  got.  The  ould  man 
had  died,  an'  the  grief  an'  disthress  of  poor  little  Biddy  had  even 
touched  her  head  a  little.  The  dacent  people  where  she  was,  may 
the  Lord  reward  'em,  though  they  found  little  use  in  her,  kep  her, 
hoping  I  would  be  able  to  come  home  an'  keep  her  myself,  an'  so 
I  was.  I  brought  her  away  wid  me,  an'  the  sight  iv  me  put  new 
life  in  her.  I  was  set  upon  not  being  idle,  an'  I'll  tell  yees  what 
I  did  next. 

"  When  I  was  little  bouchaleen  iv  a  boy  I  used  to  be  ahead  on 
the  mountain  face,  an'  'twas  often  I  sheltered  myself  behind  them 
gray  rocks  that's  at  the  gable  iv  my  house ;  an'  somehow  it  came 
into  my  head  that  the  new  Squire,  being  a  grate  man  for  improv- 
in'  might  let  me  try  to  brake  in  a  bit  iv  land  there ;  an'  so  I  goes 
off  to  him,  an'  one  iv  the  sarvints  bein'  a  sort  iv  cousin  iv  mine, 
I  got  to  spake  to  the  Squire,  an'  behould  yees  he  guv  me  lave  at 


336  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

onst.  Well,  there's  no  time  like  the  prisint,  an'  as  1  passed  out 
iv  the  back  yard  of  the  mentioned  (mansion)  house,  I  sees  the 
awyers  cutting  some  Norway  firs  that  had  been  blown  down  by 
;ho  -11,  an'  I  tells  the  sawyers  that  I  had  got  lave  to  brake  in 
.nd  in  the  mountains,  an'  what  would  some  pieces  iv  fir 
.,.  They  says  they  must  see  what  kind  of  pieces  they  was  that 
I  wished  for ;  an'  no  sooner  had  I  set  about  looking  'em  through 
thaS^the  Squire  himself  comes  ridin'  out  of  the  stable-yard,  an' 
says  he  at  onst,  '  McNale,'  says  he,  '  you  may  have  a  load  iv  cut- 
tins  to  build  your  cabin,  or  two  if  you  need  it.'  *  The  Heavens 
be  your  honour's  bed,'  says  I,  an'  I  wint  off  to  the  room  where  I 
an'  Biddy  lived,  not  knowin'  if  I  was  on  my  head  or  my  heels. 
Next  day,  before  sunrise,  I  was  up  here,  five  miles  up  the  face 
of  Slieve-dan,  with  a  spade  in  my  fist,  an'  I  looked  roun'  for  the 
most  shiltered  spot  I  could  sit  my  eyes  an.  Here  I  saw,  where 
the  house  an'  yard  are  stan'in',  a  plot  iv  about  an  acre  to  the 
south  iv  that  tall  ridge  of  rocks,  well  sheltered  from  the  blast 
from  the  north  an'  from  the  aste,  an'  it  was  about  sunrise  an'  a 
fine  morning  in  October  that  I  tuk  up  the  first  spadeful.  There 
was  a  spring  then  drippin'  down  the  face  iv  the  rocks,  an'  I  saw 
at  once  that  it  would  make  the  cabin  completely  damp,  an'  the 
land  about  mighty  sour  an'  water-sZam;  so  I  determined  to  do 
what  I  saw  done  in  Scotland.  I  sunk  a  deep  drain  right  under 
the  rock  to  run  all  along  the  back  iv  the  cabin,  an'  workin'  that 
day  all  alone  by  myself,  I  did  a  grate  dale  iv  it.  At  night  it  was 
close  upon  dark  when  I  started  to  go  home,  so  I  hid  my  spade  in 
the  heath  an7  trudged  off.  The  next  morning  I  bargained  with  a 
farmer  to  bring  me  up  a  load  iv  fir  cuttins  from  the  Squire's,  an' 
by  the  evenin'  they  were  thrown  down  within  a  quarter  iv  a  mile 
iv  my  place,  for  there  was  no  road  to  it  then,  an'  I  had  to  carry 
*em  myself  for  the  remainder  of  the  way.  This  occupied  me  till 
near  nightfall ;  but  I  remained  that  night  till  I  placed  two  ux 
right  posts  of  fir,  one  at  each  corner  iv  the  front  iv  the  cabin. 

"  I  was  detarmined  to  get  the  oabin  finished  as  quickly  as  pos- 
sible, that  I  might  be  able  to  live  upon  the  spot,  for  much  time 
was  lost  in  goin'  and  comin'.  The  next  day  I  was  up  betimes, 
an*  finding  a  track  iv  stiff  blue  clay,  I  cut  a.  multitude  of  thick 


OF   ENGLAND.  337 

square  sods  iv  it,  an'  having  set  up  two  more  posts  at  the  remain- 
in'  two  corners  iv  the  cabin,  I  laid  four  rows  iv  one  gable,  rising 
it  about  three  feet  high.  Havin'  laid  the  rows,  I  sharpind  three 
or  four  straight  pine  branches,  an'  druv  them  down  through  the 
sods  into  the  earth,  to  pin  the  wall  in  its  place.  Next  day  I  had 
a  whole  gable  up,  each  three  rows  iv  sods  pinned  through  to  the 
three  benathe.  In  about  eight  days  I  had  put  up  the  four  walls, 
makin'  a  door  an'  two  windows ;  an'  now  my  outlay  began,  for  I 
had  to  pay  a  thatcher  to  put  on  the  sthraw  an'  to  assist  me  in 
risin'  the  rafthers.  In  another  week  it  was  covered  in,  an'  it  was 
a  pride  to  see  it  with  the  new  thatch  an'  a  wicker  chimbly  daubed 
with  clay,  like  a  pallis  undernathe  the  rock.  I  now  got  some 
turf  that  those  who  had  cut  'em  had  not  removed,  an'  they  sould 
;em  for  a  thrifle,  an'  I  made  a  grate  fire  an'  slept  on  the  flure  of 
my  own  house  that  night.  Next  day  I  got  another  load  iv  fir 
brought  to  make  the  partitions  in  the  winter,  an'  in  a  day  or  two 
after  I  had  got  the  inside  so  dhry  that  I  was  able  to  bring  poor 
Biddy  to  live  there  for  good  and  all.  The  Heavens  be  praised, 
there  was  not  a  shower  iv  rain  fell  from  the  time  I  began  the 
cabin  till  I  ended  it,  an'  when  the  rain  did  fall,  not  a  drop  came 
through — all  was  carried  off  by  my  dhrain  into  the  little  river 
before  yees. 

"  The  moment  I  was  settled  in  the  house  I  comminced  dhrain- 
ing  about  an  acre  iv  bog  in  front,  an'  the  very  first  winter  I  sowed 
a  shillin's  worth  of  cabbidge  seed,  an'  sold  in  the  spring  a  pound's 
worth  of  little  cabbidge  plants  for  the  gardins  in  the  town  below. 
When  spring  came,  noticin'  how  the  early-planted  praties  did  the 
best,  I  planted  my  cabbidge  ground  with  praties,  an'  I  had  a 
noble  crap,  while  the  ground  was  next  year  fit  for  the  corn.  In 
the  mane  time,  every  winther  I  tuk  in  more  and  more  ground, 
an'  in  summer  I  cut  my  turf  for  fewel,  where  the  cuttins  could 
answer  in  winther  for  a  dhrain ;  an'  findin'  how  good  the  turf 
were,  I  got  a  little  powney  an'  carried  'em  to  the  town  to  sell, 
when  I  was  able  to  buy  lime  in  exchange  an'  put  it  on  my  bog, 
so  as  to  make  it  produce  double.  As  tilings  went  on  I  got  assist- 
ance, an'  when  I  marrid,  my  wife  had  two  cows  that  guv  me  a 
grate  lift. 


388  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

"  I  was  always  thought  to  be  a  handy  boy,  an'  I  could  do  a 
turn  of  mason-work  with  any  man  not  riglarly  bred  to  it ;  so  I 
took  one  of  my  loads  of  lime,  an'  instead  of  puttin'  it  on  the  land, 
I  made  it  into  morthar — and  indeed  the  stones  being  no  ways 
scarce,  I  set  to  an'  built  a  little  kiln,  like  as  I  had  seen  down  the 
counthry.  I  could  then  burn  my  own  lime,  an'  the  limestone 
were  near  to  my  hand,  too  many  iv  'em.  While  all  this  was  goin' 
on,  I  had  riz  an'  sould  a  good  dale  iv  oats  and  praties,  an'  every 
summer  I  found  ready  sale  for  my  turf  in  the  town  from  one  jon- 
tleman  that  I  always  charged  at  an  even  rale,  year  by  year.  I 
got  the  help  of  a  stout  boy,  a  cousin  iv  my  own,  who  was  glad  iv 
a  shilter;  an'  when  the  childher  were  ould  enough,  I  got  some 
young  cattle  that  could  graze  upon  the  mountain  in  places  where 
no  other  use  could  be  made  iv  the  land,  and  set  the  gossoons  to 
herd  'em. 

"  There  was  one  bit  iv  ground  nigh  han'  to  the  cabin  that  puz- 
zled me  intirely.  It  was  very  poor  and  sandy,  an'  little  better 
than  a  rabbit  burrow ;  an'  telling  the  Squire's  Scotch  steward  iv 
it,  he  bade  me  thry  some  flax ;  an'  sure  enuf,  so  I  did,  an'  a  fine 
crap  iv  flax  I  had  as  you  might  wish  to  see ;  an'  the  stame-mills 
being  beginnin'  in  the  counthry  at  that  time,  I  sould  my  flax  for 
a  very  good  price,  my  wife  having  dhried  it,  beetled  it,  an' 
scutched  it  with  her  own  two  hands. 

"  I  should  have  said  before  that  the  Squire  himself  came  up 
here  with  a  lot  iv  fine  ladies  and  jontlemen  to  see  what  I  had 
done ;  an'  you  never  in  your  life  seed  a  man  so  well  plased  as  he 
was,  an'  a  mimber  of  Parlimint  from  Scotland  was  with  him,  an' 
he  tould  me  I  was  a  credit  to  ould  Ireland ;  an'  sure  didn't  Father 
Connor  read  upon  the  papers,  how  ha  tould  the  whole  story  in 
the  Parlimint  house  before  all  the  lords  an'  quality.  But  faix, 
he  didn't  forgit  me ;  for  a  month  or  two  after  he  was  here,  an'  it 
coming  on  the  winter,  comes  word  for  me  an'  the  powney  to  go 
down  to  the  mentioned  (mansion)  house,  for  the  steward  wanted 
me.  So  away  I  wint,  an'  there,  shure  enuf,  was  an  illigant  Scotch 
plough,  every  inch  of  iron,  an'  a  lot  of  young  Norroway  pines — 
the  same  you  see  shiltering  the  house  an'  yard— an'  all  was  a  free 
prisint  for  me  from  the  Scotch  jontleman  that  was  the  mimber 


OF   ENGLAND.  339 

of  Parlimint.  ;Twas  that  plough  that  did  the  meracles  iv  work 
hereabouts;  for  I  often  lint  it  to  any  that  I  knew  to  be  a  careful 
hand,  an'  it  was  the  manes  iv  havin'  the  farmers  all  round  send 
an'  buy  'em.  At  last  I  was  able  to  build  a  brave  snug  house ; 
and,  praised  be  Providence,  I  have  never  had  an  hour's  ill  health 
nor  a  moment's  grief,  but  when  poor  Biddy,  the  cratur,  died  from 
us.  It  is  thirty  years  since  that  morning  that  I  tuk  up  the  first 
spadeful  from  the  wild  mountain  side;  an'  twelve  acres  are  good 
labour  land,  an'  fifteen  drained  an'  good  grazin'.  I  have  been 
payin'  rint  twinty  years,  an'  am  still,  thank  God,  able  to  take  my 
own  part  iv  any  day's  work — plough,  spade,  or  flail." 

"  Have  you  got  a  lease?"  said  I. 

"  No,  indeed,  nor  a  schrape  of  a  pin;  nor  I  never  axed  it.  Have 
J  not  my  tinnant-rite?" 

At  any  moment  the  labours  of  poor  Con  might  have 
been  rendered  of  no  benefit  to  him.  He  held  the 
wretched  hovel  and  the  ground  he  tilled  merely  by  the 
permission  of  the  landlord,  who  could  have  desolated 
all  by  the  common  process  of  eviction ;  and  Con  would 
then  have  been  driven  to  new  exertions  or  to  the  work- 
house. The  rugged  ballad  of  "  Patrick  Fitzpatrick's 
Farewell/'  presents  a  case  more  common  than  that  of 
Con  McNale : — 

"  Those  three  long  years  I've  labour'd  hard  as  any  on  Erin's  isle, 

And  still  was  scarcely  able  my  family  to  keep ; 
My  tender  wife  and  children  three,  under  the  lash  of  misery, 

Unknown  to  friends  and  neighbours,  I've  often  seen  to  weep. 
Sad  grief  it  seized  her  tender  heart,  when  forced  her  only  cow 

to  part, 
And  canted*  was  before  her  face,  the  poor-rates  for  to  pay; 

*  Auctioned. 


340  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

Cut  down  in  all  her  youthful  bloom,  she's  gone  into  her  silent 

tomb ; 
Forlorn  I  will  mourn  her  loss  when  in  America." 

In  the  same  ballad  we  have  an  expression  of  the  com- 
parative paradise  the  Irish  expect  to  find — and  do  find, 
by  the  way — in  that  land  which  excites  so  much  the 
pity  of  the  philanthropic  aristocracy : — 

"  Let  Erin's  sons  and  daughters  fair  now  for  the  promised  land 

prepare, 

America,  that  beauteous  soil,  will  soon  your  toil  repay; 
Employment,  it  is  plenty  there,  on  beef  and  mutton  you  can  fare, 

From  Jive  to  six  dollars  is  your  wages  every  day. 
Now  see  what  money  has  come  o'er  these  three  years  from 

Columbia's  shore; 

But  for  it  numbers  now  were  laid  all  in  their  silent  clay; 
California's  golden  mines,  my  boys,  are  open  now  to  crown 

our  joys, 
So  all  our  hardships  we'll  dispute  when  in  America." 

As  an  illustration  of  the  manner  in  which  eviction  is 
sometimes  effected  by  heartless  landlords  in  Ireland,  and 
the  treatment  which  the  lowly  of  Great  Britain  gene- 
rally receive  from  those  who  become  their  masters,  we 
may  quote  "Two  Scenes  in  the  Life  of  John  Bodger," 
from  "Dickens's  Household  Words."  The  characters 
in  this  sketch  are  English ;  but  the  incidents  are  such 
as  frequently  occur  in  Ireland : — 

"  In  the  year  1832,  on  the  24th  of  December,  one  of  those  clear 
bright  days  that  sometimes  supersede  the  regular  snowy,  sleety 
Christmas  weather,  a  large  ship  lay  off  Plymouth  ;  the  Blue  Peter 
flying  from  her  masthead,  quarters  of  beef  hanging  from  her  miz- 


OF   ENGLAND.  341 

zen-booms,  and  strings  of  cabbages  from  her  stern  rails  ;  her  decks 
crowded  with  coarsely-clad  blue-nosed  passengers,  and  lumbered 
with  boxes,  barrels,  hen-coops,  spars,  and  chain-cables.  The  wind 
was  rising  with  a  hollow,  dreary  sound.  Boats  were  hurrying  to 
and  fro,  between  the  vessel  and  the  beach,  where  stood  excited 
groups  of  old  people  and  young  children.  The  hoarse,  impatient 
voices  of  officers  issuing  their  commands,  were  mingled  with  the 
shrill  wailing  of  women  on  the  deck  and  the  shore. 

"  It  was  the  emigrant  ship  *  Cassandra/  bound  for  Australia 
during  the  period  of  the  'Bounty'  system,  when  emigration  re- 
cruiters, stimulated  by  patriotism  and  a  handsome  percentage, 
rushed  frantically  up  and  down  the  country,  earnestly  entreating 
*  healthy  married  couples/  and  single  souls  of  either  sex,  to  accept 
a  free  passage  to  '  a  land  of  plenty/  The  English  labourers  had 
not  then  discovered  that  Australia  was  a  country  where  masters 
were  many  and  servants  scarce.  In  spite  of  poverty  and  poorhouse 
fare,  few  of  the  John  Bull  family  could  be  induced  to  give  heed  to 
flaming  placards  they  could  not  read,  or  inspiring  harangues 
they  could  not  understand.  The  admirable  education  which  in 
1832,  at  intervals  of  seven  days,  was  distributed  in  homoeopathic 
doses  among  the  agricultural  olive-branches  of  England,  did  not 
include  modern  geography,  even  when  reading  and  writing  were 
imparted.  If  a  stray  Sunday-school  scholar  did  acquire  a  faint 
notion  of  the  locality  of  Canaan,  he  was  never  permitted  to  travel 
as  far  as  the  British  Colonies. 

"  To  the  ploughman  out  of  employ,  Canaan,  Canada,  and  Aus- 
tralia were  all  lfurrin  parts;'  he  did  not  know  the  way  to  them ; 
but  he  knew  the  way  to  the  poorhouse,  so  took  care  to  keep  within 
reach  of  it. 

"  Thus  it  came  to  pass  that  the  charterers  of  the  good  ship  'Cas- 
sandra '  were  grievously  out  in  their  calculations  ;  and  failing  to 
fill  with  English,  were  obliged  to  make  up  their  complement  with 
Irish ;  who,  having  nothing  to  fall  upon,  but  the  charity  of  the  poor 
to  the  poorer,  are  always  ready  to  go  anywhere  for  a  daily  meal. 

"  The  steamers  from  Cork  had  transferred  their  ragged,  weeping, 
laughing,  fighting  cargoes ;  the  last  stray  groups  of  English  had 
been  collected  from  the  western  counties ;  the  Government  officers 


342  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

had  cleared  and  passed  the  ship.  With  the  afternoon  tide  two 
hundred  helpless,  ignorant,  destitute  souls  were  to  bid  farewell  to 
their  native  land.  The  delays  consequent  on  miscalculating  the 
emigrating  taste  of  England  had  retarded  until  midwinter,  a  voy- 
age which  should  have  been  commenced  in  autumn. 

"  In  one  of  the  shore-boats,  sat  a  portly  man — evidently  neither 
an  emigrant  nor  a  sailor — wrapped  in  a  great  coat  and  comforters  ; 
his  broad-brimmed  beaver  secured  from  the  freezing  blast  by  a 
coloured  bandanna  tied  under  the  chin  of  a  fat,  whiskerless  face. 
This  portly  personage  was  Mr.  Joseph  Lobbit,  proprietor  of  '  The 
Shop/  farmer,  miller,  and  chairman  of  the  vestry  of  the  rich 
rural  parish  of  Duxmoor. 

"  At  Duxmoor,  the  chief  estate  was  in  Chancery,  the  manor- 
house  in  ruins,  the  lord  of  it  an  outlaw,  and  the  other  landed  pro- 
prietors absentees,  or  in  debt ;  a  curate  preached,  buried,  married, 
and  baptized,  for  the  health  of  the  rector  compelled  him  to  pass 
the  summer  in  Switzerland,  and  the  winter  in  Italy ;  so  Mr.  Lob- 
bit  was  almost  the  greatest,  as  he  was  certainly  the  richest,  man  in 
the  parish. 

"  Except  that  he  did  not  care  for  any  one  but  himself,  and  did 
not  respect  any  one  who  had  not  plenty  of  money,  he  was  not  a  bad 
sort  of  man.  He  had  a  jolly  hearty  way  of  talking  and"  shaking 
hands,  and  slapping  people  on  the  back ;  and  until  you  began  to 
count  money  with  him,  he  seemed  a  very  pleasant,  liberal  fellow. 
He  was  fond  of  money,  but  more  fond  of  importance ;  and  there- 
fore worked  as  zealously  at  parish-business  as  he  did  at  his  own 
farm,  shop,  and  mill.  He  centred  the  whole  powers  of  the  vestry 
in  one  person,  and  would  have  been  beadle,  too,  if  it  had  been 
possible.  He  appointed  the  master  and  matron  of  the  workhouse, 
who  were  relations  of  his  wife ;  supplied  all  the  rations  and  clothing 
for  '  the  house  /  and  fixed  the  prices  in  full  vestry  (viz.  himself, 
and  the  clerk,  his  cousin,)  assembled.  He  settled  all  the  questions 
of  out-door  relief,  and  tried  hard,  more  than  once,  to  settle  the  rate 
of  wages  too. 

"Ill-natured  people  did  say  that  those  who  would  not  work  on 
Master  Lobbies  farm,  at  Ms  wages,  stood  a  very  bad  chance  if  they 
wanted  any  thing  from  the  parish,  or  came  for  the  doles  of  blankets, 


OF   ENGLAND.  343 

coals,  bread,  and  linsey-woolsey  petticoats,  which,  under  the  pro- 
visions of  the  tablets  in  Duxmoor  church,  are  distributed  every 
Christmas.  Of  course,  Mr.  Lobbit  supplied  these  gifts,  as  chief 
shop-keeper,  and  dispensed  them,  as  senior  and  perpetual  church- 
warden. Lobbit  gave  capital  dinners ;  plenty  smoked  on  his 
board,  and  pipes  of  negro-head  with  jorums  of  gin  punch  followed, 
without  stint. 

"  The  two  attorneys  dined  with  him — and  were  glad  to  come, 
for  he  had  always  monoy  to  lend,  on  good  security,  and  his  gin  was 
unexceptionable.  So  did  two  or  three  bullfrog  farmers,  very  rich 
and  very  ignorant.  The  doctor  and  curate  came  occasionally; 
they  were  poor,  and  in  his  debt  at  *  The  Shop/  therefore  bound  to 
laugh  at  his  jokes — which  were  not  so  bad,  for  he  was  no  fool — 
so  that,  altogether,  Mr.  Lobbit  had  reason  to  believe  himself  a  very 
popular  man. 

"  But  there  was — where  is  there  not  ? — a  black  drop  in  his  over- 
flowing cup  of  prosperity. 

"  He  had  a  son  whom  he  intended  to  make  a  gentleman ;  whom 
he  hoped  to  see  married  to  some  lady  of  good  family,  installed  in 
the  manor-house  of  Duxmoor,  (if  it  should  be  sold  cheap,  at  the 
end  of  the  Chancery  suit,)  and  established  as  the  squire  of  the 
parish.  Robert  Lobbit  had  no  taste  for  learning,  and  a  strong 
taste  for  drinking,  which  his  father's  customers  did  their  best  to 
encourage.  Old  Lobbit  was  decent  in  his  private  habits  ;  but,  as 
he  made  money  wherever  he  could  to  advantage,  he  was  always 
surrounded  by  a  levee  of  scamps,  of  all  degrees — some  agents  and 
assistants,  some  borrowers,  and  would-be  borrowers.  Young 
Lobbit  found  it  easier  to  follow  the  example  of  his  father's  com- 
panions than  to  follow  his  father's  advice.  He  was  as  selfish  and 
greedy  as  his  father,  without  being  so  agreeable  or  hospitable. 
In  the  school-room  he  was  a  dunce,  in  the  play-ground  a  tyrant 
and  bully ;  no  one  liked  him ;  but,  as  he  had  plenty  of  money, 
many  courted  him. 

"As  a  last  resource  his  father  sent  him  to  Oxford;  whence,  after 
a  short  residence,  he  was  expelled.  He  arrived  home  drunk,  and 
in  debt ;  without  having  lost  one  bad  habit,  or  made  one  respect- 
able friend.  From  that  period  he  lived  a  sot,  a  village  rake,  the 


344         .  .       THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

king  of  the  taproom,  and  the  patron  of  a  crowd  of  blackguards, 
who  drank  his  beer  and  his  health ;  hated  him  for  his  insolence, 
and  cheated  him  of  his  money. 

"Yet  Joseph  Lobbit  loved  his  son,  and  tried  not  to  believe  the 
stories  good-natured  friends  told  of  him. 

"Another  trouble  fell  upon  the  prosperous  churchwarden.  On 
the  north  side  of  the  parish,  just  outside  the  boundaries  of  Dux- 
moor  Manor,  there  had  been,  in  the  time  of  the  Great  Civil  Wars, 
a  large  number  of  small  freehold  farmers:  each  with  from  forty  to 
five  acres  of  land ;  the  smaller,  fathers  had  divided  among  their 
progeny ;  the  larger  had  descended  to  eldest  sons  by  force  of  pri- 
mogeniture. Joseph  Lobbies  father  had  been  one  of  these  small 
freeholders.  A  right  of  pasture  on  an  adjacent  common  was  at- 
tached to  these  little  freeholds ;  so,  what  with  geese  and  sheep, 
and  a  cow  or  so,  even  the  poorest  proprietor,  with  the  assistance 
of  harvest  work,  managed  to  make  a  living,  up  to  the  time  of  the 
last  war.  War  prices  made  land  valuable,  and  the  common  was 
enclosed ;  though  a  share  went  to  the  little  freeholders,  and  sons 
and  daughters  were  hired,  at  good  wages,  while  the  enclosure  was 
going  on,  the  loss  of  the  pasture  for  stock,  and  the  fall  of  prices 
at  the  peace,  sealed  their  fate.  John  Lobbit,  our  portly  friend's 
father,  succeeded  to  his  little  estate,  of  twenty  acres,  by  the  death 
of  his  elder  brother,  in  the  time  of  best  war  prices,  after  he  had 
passed  some  years  as  a  shopman  in  a  great  seaport.  His  first  use 
of  it  was  to  sell  it,  and  set  up  a  shop  in  Duxmoor,  to  the  great 
scandal  of  his  farmer  neighbours.  When  John  slept  with  his 
fathers,  Joseph,  having  succeeded  to  the  shop  and  savings,  began 
to  buy  land  and  lend  money.  Between  shop  credit  to  the  five- 
acred  and  mortgages  to  the  forty-acred  men,  with  a  little  luck  in 
the  way  of  the  useful  sons  of  the  freeholders  being  constantly  en- 
listed for  soldiers,  impressed  for  sailors,  or  convicted  for  poaching 
offences,  in  the  course  of  years  Joseph  Lobbit  became  possessed, 
not  only  of  his  paternal  freehold,  but,  acre  by  acre,  of  all  his 
neighbours'  holdings,  to  the  extent  of  something  like  five  hundred 
acres.  The  original  owners  vanished  ;  the  stout  and  young  de- 
parted, and  were  seen  no  more ;  the  old  and  decrepit  were  received 
and  kindly  housed  in  the  workhouse^  Of  course  it  could  not  have 


OF   ENGLAND.  345 

been  part  of  Mr.  Lobbies  bargain  to  find  them  board  and  lodging 
for  the  rest  of  their  days  at  the  parish  expense.  A  few  are  said  to 
have  drunk  themselves  to  death ;  but  this  is  improbable,  for  the 
cider  in  that  part  of  the  country  is  extremely  sour,  so  that  it  is 
more  likely  they  died  of  colic. 

"  There  was,  however,  in  the  very  centre  of  the  cluster  of  free- 
holds which  the  parochial  dignitary  had  so  successfully  acquired, 
a  small  barren  plot  of  five  acres  with  a  right  of  road  through  the 
rest  of  the  property.  The  possessor  of  this  was  a  sturdy  fellow, 
John  Bodger  by  name,  who  was  neither  to  be  coaxed  nor  bullied 
into  parting  with  his  patrimony. 

"John  Bodger  was  an  only  son,  a  smart  little  fellow,  a  capital 
thatch er,  a  good  hand  at  cobhouse  building — in  fact  a  handy  man. 
Unfortunately,  he  was  as  fond  of  pleasure  as  his  betters.  He  sang 
a  comic  song  till  peoples'  eyes  ran  over,  and  they  rolled  on  their 
seats  :  he  handled  a  singlestick  very  tidily ;  and,  among  the  light 
weights,  was  not  to  be  despised  as  a  wrestler.  He  always  knew 
where  a  hare  was  to  be  found ;  and,  when  the  fox-hounds  were  out, 
to  hear  his  view-halloo  did  your  heart  good.  These  tastes  were 
expensive ;  so  that  when  he  came  into  his  little  property,  although 
he  worked  with  tolerable  industry,  and  earned  good  wages  for  that 
part  of  the  country,  he  never  had  a  shilling  to  the  fore,  as  the  Irish 
say.  If  he  had  been  a  prudent  man,  he  might  have  laid  by  some- 
thing very  snug,  and  defied  Mr.  Lobbit  to  the  end  of  his  days. 

"  It  would  take  too  long  to  tell  all  Joseph  Lobbit' s  ingenious  de- 
vices— after  plain,  plump  offers — to  buy  Bodger's  acres  had  been 
refused.  John  Bodger  declined  a  loan  to  buy  a  cart  and  horse  ; 
he  refused  to  take  credit  or  a  new  hat,  umbrella,  and  waistcoat, 
after  losing  his  money  at  Bidecot  Fair.  He  went  on  steadily 
slaving  at  his  bit  of  land,  doing  all  the  best  thatching  and  build- 
ing jobs  in  the  neighbourhood,  spending  his  money,  and  enjoying 
himself  without  getting  into  any  scrapes ;  until  Mr.  Joseph  Lobbit, 
completely  foiled,  began  to  look  on  John  Bodger  as  a  personal 
enemy. 

"Just  when  John  and  his  neighbours  were  rejoicing  over  the  de- 
feat of  the  last  attempt  of  the  jolly  parochial,  an  accident  occurred 
which  upset  all  John's  prudent  calculations.  He  fell  in  love. 

23 


346  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

He  might  have  married  Dorothy  Paulson,  the  blacksmith's  daugh- 
ter— an  only  child,  with  better  than  two  hundred  pounds  in  the 
bank,  and  a  good  business — a  virtuous,  good  girl,  too,  except  that 
she  was  as  thin  as  a  hurdle,  with  a  skin  like  a  nutmeg-grater,  and 
rather  a  bad  temper.  But  instead  of  that,  to  the  surprise  of  every 
one,  he  went  and  married  Carry  Hutchins,  the  daughter  of  "VYidow 
Hutchins,  one  of  the  little  freeholders  bought  out  by  Mr.  Lobbit, 
who  died,  poor  old  soul,  the  day  after  she  was  carried  into  the 
workhouse,  leaving  Carry  and  her  brother  Tom  destitute — that  is 
to  say,  destitute  of  goods,  money,  or  credit,  but  not  of  common 
sense,  good  health,  good  looks,  and  power  of  earning  wages. 

"  Carry  was  nearly  a  head  taller  than  John,  with  a  face  like  a 
ripe  pear.  He  had  to  buy  her  wedding  gown,  and  every  thing 
else.  He  bought  them  at  Lobbies  shop.  Tom  Hutchins — he  was 
fifteen  years  old — a  tall,  spry  lad,  accepted  five  shillings  from  his 
brother-in-law,  hung  a  small  bundle  on  his  bird's-nesting  stick, 
and  set  off  to  walk  to  Bristol,  to  be  a  sailor.  He  was  never  heard 
of  any  more  at  Duxmoor. 

"At  first  all  went  well.  John  left  off  going  to  wakes  and  fairs, 
except  on  business ;  stuck  to  his  trades ;  brought  his  garden  into 
good  order,  and  worked  early  and  late,  when  he  could  spare  time, 
at  his  two  fields,  while  his  wife  helped  him  famously.  If  they  had 
had  a  few  pounds  in  hand,  they  would  have  had  '  land  and  beeves.' 

"But  the  first  year  twins  came — a  boy  and  girl;  and  the  next 
another  girl,  and  then  twins  again,  and  so  on.  Before  Mrs.  Bod- 
ger  was  thirty  she  had  nine  hearty,  healthy  children,  with  a  fair 
prospect  of  plenty  more ;  while  John  was  a  broken  man,  soured, 
discontented,  hopeless.  No  longer  did  ]*£  stride  forth  eagerly  to 
his  work,  after  kissing  mother  and  babies ;  no  longer  did  he  hurry 
home  to  put  a  finishing-stroke  to  the  potato-patch,  or  broadcast 
his  oat  crop ;  no  longer  did  he  sit  whistling  and  telling  stories  of 
bygone  feats  at  the  fireside,  while  mending  some  wooden  imple- 
ment of  his  own,  or  making  one  for  a  neighbour.  Languid  and 
moody,  he  lounged  to  his  task  with  round  shoulders  and  slouching 
gait ;  spoke  seldom — when  he  did,  seldom  kindly.  His  children, 
except  the  youngest,  feared  him,  and  his  wife  scarcely  opened  her 
lips,  except  to  answer. 


OF   ENGLAND.  347 

"  A  long,  hard,  severe  winter,  and  a  round  of  typhus  fever, 
which  carried  off  two  children,  finished  him.  John  Bodger  was 
beaten,  and  obliged  to  sell  his  bit  of  land.  He  had  borrowed 
money  on  it  from  the  lawyer;  while  laid  up  with  fever  he  had 
silently  allowed  his  wife  to  run  up  a  bill  at '  The  Shop/'  When 
strong  enough  for  work  there  was  no  work  to  be  had.  Lobbit  saw 
his  opportunity,  and  took  it.  John  Bodger  wanted  to  buy  a  cow, 
he  wanted  seed,  he  wanted  to  pay  the  doctor,  and  to  give  his  boys 
clothes  to  enable  them  to  go  to  service.  He  sold  his  land  for  what 
he  thought  would  do  all  this  and  leave  a  few  pounds  in  hand. 
He  attended  to  sign  the  deed  and  receive  money ;  when  instead  of 
the  balance  of  twenty-five  pounds  he  had  expected,  he  received 
one  pound  ten  shillings,  and  a  long  lawyer's  bill  receipted. 

He  did  not  say  much ;  for  poor  countrymen  don't  know  how  to 
talk  to  lawyers,  but  he  went  toward  home  like  a  drunken  man ; 
and,  not  hearing  the  clatter  of  a  horse  behind  him  that  had  run 
away,  was  knocked  down,  run  over,  and  picked  up  with  his  collar- 
bone and  two  ribs  broken. 

The  next  day  he  was  delirious ;  in  the  course  of  a  fortnight  he 
came  to  his  senses,  lying  on  a  workhouse  bed.  Before  he  could 
rise  from  the  workhouse  bed,  not  a  stick  or  stone  had  been  left  to 
tell  where  the  cottage  of  his  fathers  had  stood  for  more  than  two 
hundred  years,  and  Mr.  Joseph  Lobbit  had  obtained,  in  auctioneer- 
ing phrase,  a  magnificent  estate  of  five  hundred  acres  within  a 
ring  fence. 

"John  Bodger  stood  up  at  length  a  ruined,  desperate,  dangerous 
man,  pale,  and  weak,  and  even  humble.  He  said  nothing ;  the 
fever  seemed  to  have  tamed  every  limb — every  feature — except 
his  eyes,  which  glittered  like  an  adder's  when  Mr.  Lobbit  came  to 
talk  to  him.  Lobbit  saw  it  and  trembled  in  his  inmost  heart,  yet 
was  ashamed  of  being  afraid  of  a  pauper  ! 

"About  this  time  Swing  fires  made  their  appearance  in  the 
country,  and  the  principal  insurance  companies  refused  to  insure 
farming  stock,  to  the  consternation  of  Mr.  Lobbit;  for  he  had 
lately  begun  to  suspect  that  among  Mr.  Swing's  friends  he  was 
not  very  popular,  yet  he  had  some  thousand  pounds  of  corn-stacks 
in  his  own  yards  and  those  of  his  customers. 


348  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

"John  Bodger,  almost  convalescent,  was  anxious  to  leave  the 
poorhouse,  while  the  master,  the  doctor,  and  every  official,  seemed 
in  a  league  to  keep  him  there  and  make  him  comfortable,  although 
a  short  time  previously  the  feeling  had  been  quite  different.  But 
the  old  rector  of  Duxmoor  having  died  at  the  early  age  of  sixty- 
six,  in  spite  of  his  care  for  his  health,  had  been  succeeded  by  a 
man  who  was  not  content  to  leave  his  duties  to  deputies ;  all  the 
parish  affairs  underwent  a  keen  criticism,  and  John  and  his  large 
family  came  under  investigation.  His  story  came  out.  The  new 
rector  pitied  and  tried  to  comfort  him ;  but  his  soothing  words 
fell  on  deaf  ears.  The  only  answer  he  could  get  from  John  was, 
'A  hard  life  while  it  lasts,  sir,  and  a  pauper's  grave,  a  pauper 
widow,  pauper  children ;  Parson,  while  this  is  all  you  can  offer 
John  Bodger,  preaching  to  him  is  of  no  use/ 

"  With  the  wife  the  clergyman  was  more  successful.  Hope  and 
belief  are  planted  more  easily  in  the  hearts  of  women  than  of  men, 
for  adversity  softens  the  one  and  hardens  the  other.  The  rector 
was  not  content  with  exhorting  the  poor ;  he  applied  to  the  rich 
Joseph  Lobbit  on  behalf  of  John  Bodger's  family,  and  as  the  rec- 
tor was  not  only  a  truly  Christian  priest,  but  a  gentleman  of  good 
family  and  fortune,  the  parochial  ruler  was  obliged  to  hear  and 
to  heed. 

"Bland  and  smooth,  almost  pathetic,  was  Joseph  Lobbit:  he 
was  '  heartily  sorry  for  the  poor  man  and  his  large  family  ;  should 
be  happy  to  offer  him  and  his  wife  permanent  employment  on 
his  Hill  farm,  as  well  as  two  of  the  boys  and  one  of  the  girls/ 

"  The  eldest  son  and  daughter,  the  first  twins,  had  been  for  some 
time  in  respectable  service.  John  would  have  nothing  to  do  with 
Mr.  Lobbit. 

"While  this  discussion  was  pending,  the  news  of  a  ship  at 
Plymouth  waiting  for  emigrants,  reached  Duxmoor. 

"  The  parson  and  the  great  shopkeeper  were  observed  in  a  long 
warm  conference  in  the  rectory  garden,  which  ended  in  their 
shaking  hands,  and  the  rector  proceeding  with  rapid  strides  to  the 
poorhouse. 

"  The  same  day  the  lately  established  girls'  school  was  set  to 
work  sewing  garments  of  all  sizes,  as  well  as  the  females  of  the 


OF  ENGLAND.  349 

rector's  family.  A  week  afterward  there  was  a  stir  in  the  vil- 
lage ;  a  wagon  moved  slowly  away,  laden  with  a  father,  mother, 
and  large  family,  and  a  couple  of  pauper  orphan  girls.  Yes,  it 
was  true ;  John  and  Carry  Bodger  were  going  to  *  furrin  parts/ 
*  to  be  made  slaves  on.'  The  women  cried,  and  so  did  the  children 
from  imitation.  The  men  stared.  As  the  emigrants  passed  the 
Ked  Lion  there  was  an  attempt  at  a  cheer  from  two  tinkers ;  but 
it  was  a  failure  ;  no  one  joined  in.  So  staring  and  staring,  the 
men  stood  until  the  wagon  crept  round  the  turn  of  the  lane  and 
over  the  bridge,  out  of  sight ;  then  bidding  the  '  wives'  go  home 
and  be  hanged  to  'em,  their  lords,  that  had  two-pence,  went  in  to 
spend  it  at  the  Red  Lion,  and  those  who  had  not,  went  in  to  see 
the  others  drink,  and  talk  over  John  Bodger' s  '  bouldness,'  and 
abuse  Muster  Lobbit  quietly,  so  that  no  one  in  top-boots  should 
hear  them ; — for  they  were  poor  ignorant  people  in  Duxmoor — 
they  had  no  one  to  teach  them,  or  to  care  for  them,  and  after  the 
fever,  and  a  long  hard  winter,  they  cared  little  for  their  own  flesh 
and  blood,  still  less  for  their  neighbours.  So  John  Bodger  was 
forgotten  almost  before  he  was  out  of  sight. 

"By  the  road- wagon  which  the  Bodgers  joined  when  they 
reached  the  highway,  it  was  a  three  days'  journey  to  Plymouth. 

"  But,  although  they  were  gone,  Mr.  Lobbit  did  not  feel  quite 
satisfied ;  he  felt  afraid  lest  John  should  return  and  do  him  some 
secret  mischief.  He  wished  to  see  him  on  board  ship,  and  fairly 
under  sail.  Besides  his  negotiation  with  Emigration  Brokers  had 
opened  up  ideas  of  a  new  way  of  getting  rid,  not  only  of  dangerous 
fellows  like  John  Bodger,  but  of  all  kinds  of  useless  paupers. 
These  ideas  he  afterward  matured,  and  although  important 
changes  have  taken  place  in  our  emigrating  system,  even  in  1851, 
a  visit  to  government  ships,  will  present  many  specimens  of  parish 
inmates  converted,  by  dexterous  diplomacy,  into  independent 
labourers. 

"  Thus  it  was,  that  contrary  to  all  precedent,  Mr.  Lobbit  left 
his  shopman  to  settle  the  difficult  case  of  credit  with  his  Christmas 
customers,  and  with  best  horse  made  his  way  to  Plymouth  ;  and 
now  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  floated  on  salt  water. 

"  With  many  grunts  and  groans  he  climbed  the  ship's  side ;  not 
P 


350  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

being  as  great  a  man  at  Plymouth  as  at  Duxmoor,  no  chair  was 
lowered  to  receive  his  portly  person.  The  mere  fact  of  having  to 
climb  up  a  rope-ladder  from  a  rocking  boat  on  a  breezy,  freezing 
day,  was  not  calculated  to  give  comfort  or  confident  feelings  to  an 
elderly  gentleman.  With  some  difficulty,  not  without  broken 
shins,  amid  the  sarcastic  remarks  of  groups  of  wild  Irishmen,  and 
the  squeaks  of  bare-footed  children — who  not  knowing  his  awful 
parochial  character,  tumbled  about  Mr.  Lobbies  legs  in  a  most 
impertinently  familiar  manner — he  made  his  way  to  the  captain's 
cabin,  and  there  transacted  some  mysterious  business  with  the 
Emigration  Agent  over  a  prime  piece  of  mess  beef  and  a  glass  of 
Madeira.  The  Madeira  warmed  Mr.  Lobbit.  The  captain  assured 
him  positively  that  the  ship  would  sail  with  the  evening  tide. 
That  assurance  removed  a  heavy  load  from  his  breast :  he  felt  like 
a  man  who  had  been  performing  a  good  action,  and  also  cheated 
himself  into  believing  that  he  had  been  spending  his  own  money 
in  charity ;  so,  at  the  end  of  the  second  bottle,  he  willingly  chimed 
in  with  the  broker's  proposal  to  go  down  below  and  see  how  the 
emigrants  were  stowed,  and  have  a  last  look  at  his  '  lot/ 

"  Down  the  steep  ladder  they  stumbled  into  the  misery  of  a 
'  bounty'  ship.  A  long,  dark  gallery,  on  each  side  of  which  were 
ranged  the  berths ;  narrow  shelves  open  to  every  prying  eye ; 
where,  for  four  months,  the  inmates  were  to  be  packed  like  her- 
rings in  a  barrel,  without  room  to  move,  almost  without  air  to 
breathe ;  the  mess  table,  running  far  aft  the  whole  distance  be- 
tween the  masts,  left  little  room  for  passing,  and  that  little  was 
encumbered  with  all  manner  of  boxes,  packages,  and  infants, 
crawling  about  like  rabbits  in  a  warren. 

"  The  groups  of  emigrants  were  characteristically  employed. 
The  Irish  *  coshering/  or  gossiping ;  for,  having  little  or  no  bag- 
gage to  look  after,  they  had  little  care ;  but  lean  and  ragged, 
monopolized  almost  all  the  good-humour  of  the  ship.  Acute  cock- 
neys, a  race  fit  for  every  change,  hammering,  whistling,  screwing 
and  making  all  snug  in  their  berths ;  tidy  mothers,  turning  with 
despair  from  alternate  and  equally  vain  attempts  to  collect  their 
numerous  children  out  of  danger,  and  to  pack  the  necessaries  of 
a  room  into  the  space  of  a  small  cupboard,  wept  and  worked  away. 


OF  ENGLAND.  851 

Here,  a  ruined  tradesman,  with  his  family,  sat  at  the  table,  din- 
nerless,  having  rejected  the  coarse,  tough  salt  meat  in  disgust: 
there,  a  half-starved  group  fed  heartily  on  rations  from  the  same 
cask,  luxuriated  over  the  allowance  of  grog,  and  the  idea  of  such 
a  good  meal  daily.  Songs,  groans,  oaths :  crying,  laughing,  com- 
plaining, hammering  and  fiddling  combined  to  produce  a  chaos  of 
strange  sounds ;  while  thrifty  wives,  with  spectacle  on  nose, 
mended  their  husband's  breeches,  and  unthrifty  ones  scolded. 

"Amid  this  confusion,  under  the  authoritative  guidance  of  the 
second  mate,  Mr.  Lobbit  made  his  way,  inwardly  calculating  how 
many  poachers,  pauper  refractories,  Whiteboys,  and  Captain 
Bocks,  were  about  to  benefit  Australia  by  their  talents,  until  he 
reached  a  party  which  had  taken  up  its  quarters'  as  far  as  possible 
from  the  Irish,  in  a  gloomy  corner  near  the  stern.  It  consisted 
of  a  sickly,  feeble  woman,  under  forty,  but  worn,  wasted,  retaining 
marks  of  former  beauty  in  a  pair  of  large,  dark,  speaking  eyes, 
and  a  well-carved  profile,  who  was  engaged  in  nursing  two 
chubby  infants,  evidently  twins,  while  two  little  things,  just  able 
to  walk,  hung  at  her  skirts ;  a  pale,  thin  boy,  nine  or  ten  years 
old,  was  mending  a  jacket ;  an  elder  brother,  as  brown  as  a  berry, 
fresh  from  the  fields,  was  playing  dolefully  on  a  hemlock  flute. 
The  father,  a  little,  round-shouldered  man,  was  engaged  in  cut- 
ting wooden  buttons  from  a  piece  of  hard  wood  with  his  pocket- 
knife  ;  when  he  caught  sight  of  Mr.  Lobbit  he  hastily  pulled  off 
his  coat,  threw  it  into  his  berth,  and,  turning  his  back,  worked 
away  vigorously  at  the  stubborn  biftof  oak  he  was  carving. 

" '  Hallo,  John  Bodger,  so  here  you  are  at  last/  cried  Mr.  Lob- 
bit ;  '  I've  broken  my  shins,  almost  broken  my  neck,  and  spoilt 
my  coat  with  tar  and  pitch,  in  finding  you  out.  Well,  you're 
quite  at  home,  I  see  :  twins  all  well  ? — both  pair  of  them  ?  How 
do  you  find  yourself,  Missis  t9 

"  The  pale  woman  sighed,  and  cuddled  her  babies — the  little 
man  said  nothing,  but  sneered,  and  made  the  chips  fly  faster. 

"  'You're  on  your  way  now  to  a  country  where  twins  are  no  ob- 
ject ;  your  passage  is  paid,  and  you've  only  got  now  to  pray  for 
the  good  gentlemen  that  have  given  you  a  chance  of  earning  an 
honest  living/ 


352  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

"  No  answer. 

" '  I  see  them  all  here  except  Mary,  the  young  lady  of  the 
family.  Pray,  has  she  taken  rue,  and  determined  to  stay  in 
England,  after  all ;  I  expected  as  much' 

"As  he  spoke,  a  young  girl,  in  the  neat  dress  of  a  parlour  ser- 
vant, came  out  of  the  shade. 

"  '  Oh !  you  are  there,  are  you,  Miss  Mary  ?  So  you  have  made 
up  your  mind  to  leave  your  place  and  Old  England,  to  try  your 
luck  in  Australia ;  plenty  of  husbands  there :  ha,  ha !' 

"The  girl  blushed,  and  sat  down  to  sew  at  some  little  garments. 
Fresh,  rosy,  neat,  she  was  as  great  a  contrast  to  her  brother,  the 
"brown,  ragged  ploughboy,  as  he  was  to  the  rest  of  the  family, 
•with  their  flabby,  bleached  complexions. 

"  There  was  a  pause.  The  mate,  having  done  his  duty  by  find- 
ing the  parochial  dignitary's  proteges,  had  slipped  away  to  more 
important  business ;  a  chorus  of  sailors  '  yo  heave  ho-ing*  at  a 
chain  cable  had  ceased,  and  for  a  few  moments,  by  common  con- 
sent, silence  seemed  to  have  taken  possession  of  the  long,  dark 
gallery  of  the  hold. 

"  Mr.  Lobbit  was  rather  put  out  by  the  silence,  and  no  answers ; 
he  did  not  feel  so  confident  as  when  crowing  on  his  own  dunghill, 
in  Duxmoor ;  he  had  a  vague  idea  that  some  one  might  steal  be- 
hind him  in  the  dark,  knock  his  hat  over  his  eyes,  and  pay  off  old 
scores  with  a  hearty  kick :  but  parochial  dignity  prevailed,  and, 
clearing  his  throat  with  a  *  hem/  he  began  again — 

"'  John  Bodger,  where's  your  coat? — what  are  you  shivering 
there  for,  in  your  sleeves  ? — what  have  you  done  with  the  excel- 
lent coat  generously  presented  to  you  by  the  parish — a  coat  that 
cost,  as  per  contract,  fourteen  shillings  and  fourpence — you  have 
not  dared  to  sell  it,  I  hope  V 

" '  Well,  Master  Lobbit,  and  if  I  did,  the  coat  was  my  own,  I 
suppose  ?' 

"'What,  sir?' 

"  The  little  man  quailed ;  he  had  tried  to  pluck  up  his  spirit, 
but  the  blood  did  not  flow  fast  enough.  He  went  to  his  berth  and 
brought  out  the  coat. 

"  It  was  certainly  a  curious  colour,  a  sort  of  yellow  brown,  the 


OF  ENGLAND.  353 

cloth  shrunk  and  cockled  up,  and  the  metal  buttons  turned  a 
dingy  black. 

"  Mr.  Lobbit  raved ;  '  a  new  coat  entirely  spoiled,  what  had  he 
done  to  it  1'  and  as  he  raved  he  warmed,  and  felt  himself  at  home 
again,  deputy  acting  chairman  of  the  Duxmoor  Vestry.  But  the 
little  man,  instead  of  being  frightened,  grew  red,  lost  his  humble 
mien,  stood  up,  and  at  length,  when  his  tormentor  paused  for 
breath,  looked  him  full  in  the  face,  and  cried,  *  Hang  your  coat ! 
— hang  you  ! — hang  all  the  parochials  of  Duxmoor  !  "What  have 
I  done  with  your  coat  ?  Why,  I've  dyed  it ;  Fve  dipped  it  in  a 
tan-yard ;  I  was  not  going  to  carry  your  livery  with  me.  I  mean 
to  have  the  buttons  off  before  I'm  an  hour  older.  Gratitude  you 
talk  of; — thanks  you  want,  you  old  hypocrite,  for  sending  me 
away.  I'll  tell  you  what  sent  me, — it  was  that  poor  wench  and 
her  twins,  and  a  letter  from  the  office,  saying  they  would  not  in- 
sure your  ricks,  while  lucifer  matches  are  so  cheap.  Ay,  you  may 
stare — you  wonder  who  told  me  that ;  but  I  can  tell  you  more. 
Who  is  it  writes  so  like  his  father  the  bank  can't  tell  the  dif- 
ference ?' 

"  Mr.  Lobbit  turned  pale. 

"  *  Be  off!'  said  the  little  man ;  'plague  us  no  more.  You  have 
eaten  me  up  with  your  usury  ;  you've  got  my  cottage  and  my  bit 
of  land ;  you've  made  paupers  of  us  all,  except  that  dear  lass, 
and  the  one  lad,  and  you'd  wellnigh  made  a  convict  of  me.  But 
never  mind.  This  will  be  a  cold,  drear  Christmas  to  us,  and  a 
merry,  fat  one  to  you ;  but,  perhaps,  the  Christmas  may  come 
when  Master  Joseph  Lobbit  would  be  glad  to  change  places  with 
poor,  ruined  John  Bodger.  I  am  going  where  I  am  told  that  sons 
and  daughters  like  mine  are  better  than  "silver,  yea,  than  fine 
•  gold."  I  leave  you  rich  on  the  poor  man's  inheritance,  and  poor 
man's  flesh  and  blood.  You  have  a  son  and  daughter  that  will 
revenge  me.  "  Cursed  are  they  that  remove  landmarks,  and  de- 
vour the  substance  of  the  poor !" ; 

"  While  this,  one  of  the  longest  speeches  that  John  Bodger  was 
ever  known  to  make,  was  being  delivered,  a  little  crowd  had  col- 
lected, who,  without  exactly  understanding  the  merits  of  the 
case,  had  no  hesitation  in  taking  side  with  their  fellow-passenger, 


354  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

the  poor  man  with  the  large  family.  The  Irish  began  to  inquire 
if  the  stout  gentleman  was  a  tithe-proctor  or  a  driver  ?  Murmurs 
of  a  suspicious  character  arose,  in  the  midst  of  which,  in  a  very 
hasty,  undignified  manner,  Mr.  Lobbit  backed  out,  climbed  up  to 
the  deck  with  extraordinary  agility,  and,  without  waiting  to  make 
any  complaints  to  the  officers  of  the  ship,  slipped  down  the  side 
into  a  boat,  and  never  felt  himself  safe,  until  called  to  his  senses 
by  an  attempt  on  the  part  of  the  boatman  to  exact  four  times  the 
regular  fare. 

"  But  a  good  dinner  at  the  Globe  (at  parochial  expense)  and  a 
report  from  the  agent  that  the  ship  had  sailed,  restored  Mr.  Lob- 
bit's  equanimity;  and  by  the  time  that,  snugly  packed  in  the 
mail,  he  was  rattling  along  toward  home  by  a  moonlight  Christ- 
mas, he  began  to  think  himself  a  martyr  to  a  tender  heart,  and 
to  console  himself  by  calculating  the  value  of  the  odd  corner  of 
Bodger's  acres,  cut  up  into  lots  for  his  labourers7  cottages.  The 
result — fifty  per  cent. — proved  a  balm  to  his  wounded  feelings. 

"  I  wish  I  could  say  that  at  the  same  hour  John  Bodger  was 
comforting  his  wife  and  little  ones ;  sorry  am  I  to  report  that  he 
left  them  to  weep  and  complain,  while  he  went  forward  and 
smoked  his  pipe,  and  sang,  and  drank  grog  with  a  jolly  party  in 
the  forecastle — for  John's  heart  was  hardened,  and  he  cared  little 
for  God  or  man. 

"  This  old,  fond  love  for  his  wife  and  children  seemed  to  have 
died  away.  He  left  them,  through  the  most  part  of  the  voyage, 
to  shift  for  themselves — sitting  forward,  sullenly  smoking,  looking 
into  vacancy,  and  wearying  the  sailors  with  asking,  '  How  many 
knots  to-day,  Jack  ?  When  do  you  think  we  shall  see  land  ?;  So 
that  the  women  passengers  took  a  mortal  dislike  to  him ;  and  it 
being  gossiped  about  that  when  his  wife  was  in  the  hospital  he 
never  went  to  see  her  for  two  days,  they  called  him  a  brute.  So 
'Bodger  the  Brute'  he  was  called  until  the  end  of  the  voyage. 
Then  they  were  all  dispersed,  and  such  stories  driven  out  of  mind 
by  new  scenes. 

"John  was  hired  to  go  into  the  far  interior,  where  it  was  diffi- 
cult to  get  free  servants  at  all ;  so  his  master  put  up  with  the 
dead-weight  encumbrance  of  the  babies,  in  consideration  of  the 


OF   ENGLAND.  355 

clever  wife  and  string  of  likely  lads.  Thus,  in  a  new  country, 
he  began  life  again  in  a  blue  jersey  and  ragged  corduroys,  but  with 
the  largest  money  income  he  had  ever  known." 

The  second  scene  is  a  picture  of  John  Bodger's  pros- 
perity in  Australia,  where  eviction  and  workhouses  are 
forgotten.  If  Australia  had  not  been  open  to  John  as 
a  refuge,  most  probably  he  would  have  become  a  crimi- 
nal, or  a  worthless  vagrant.  Here  is  the  second 
scene : — 

"  In  1842,  my  friend  Mrs.  C.  made  one  of  her  marches  through 
the  bush  with  an  army  of  emigrants.  These  consisted  of  parents 
with  long  families,  rough,  country-bred  single  girls,  with  here 
and  there  a  white-handed,  useless  young  lady — the  rejected  ones 
of  the  Sydney  hirers.  In  these  marches  she  had  to  depend  for 
the  rations  of  her  ragged  regiment  on  the  hospitality  of  the  set- 
tlers on  her  route,  and  was  never  disappointed,  although  it  often 
happened  that  a  day's  journey  was  commenced  without  any  dis- 
tinct idea  of  who  would  furnish  the  next  dinner  and  breakfast. 

"  On  one  of  these  foraging  excursions — starting  at  day-dawn 
on  horseback,  followed  by  her  man  Friday,  an  old  lag,  (prisoner,) 
in  a  light  cart,  to  carry  the  provender — she  went  forth  to  look  for 
the  flour,  milk,'  and  mullet,  for  the  breakfast  of  a  party  whose 
English  appetites  had  been  sharpened  by  travelling  at  the  pace 
of  the  drays  all  day,  and  sleeping  in  the  open  air  all  night. 

"  The  welcome  smoke  of  the  expected  station  was  found ;  the 
light  cart,  with  the  complements  and  empty  sack  despatched*; 
when  musing,  at  a  foot-pace,  perhaps  on  the  future  fortune  of  the 
half-dozen  girls  hired  out  the  previous  day,  Mrs.  C.  came  upon  a 
small  party  which  had  also  been  encamping  on  the  other  side  of 
the  hills. 

"It  consisted  of  two  gawky  lads,  in  docked  smock  frocks, 
woolly  hats,  rosy,  sleepy  countenances — fresh  arrivals,  living 
monuments  of  the  care  bestowed  in  developing  the  intelligence 


356  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

of  the  agricultural  mind  in  England.  They  were  hard  at  work 
on  broiled  mutton.  A  regular,  hard-dried  bushman  had  just 
driven  up  a  pair  of  blood  mares  from  their  night's  feed,  and  a 
white-headed,  brisk  kind  of  young  old  man,  the  master  of  the 
party,  was  sitting  by  the  fire,  trying  to  feed  an  infant  with  some 
sort  of  mess  compounded  with  sugar.  A  dray,  heavily  laden, 
with  a  bullock-team  ready  harnessed,  stood  ready  to  start  under 
the  charge  of  a  bullock-watchman. 

"The  case  was  clear  to  a  colonial  eye;  the  white-headed  man 
had  been  down  to  the  port  from  his  bush-farm  to  sell  his  stuff, 
and  was  returning  with  two  blood  mares  purchased,  and  two  emi- 
grant lads  hired ;  but  what  was  the  meaning  of  the  baby  ?  We 
see  strange  things  in  the  bush,  but  a  man-nurse  is  strange  even 
there. 

"  Although  they  had  never  met  before,  the  white-headed  man 
almost  immediately  recognised  Mrs.  C., — for  who  did  not  know 
her,  or  of  her,  in  the  bush  ? — so  was  more  communicative  than 
he  otherwise  might  have  been  ;  so  he  said — 

"  '  You  see,  ma'am,  my  lady,  I  have  only  got  on  my  own  place 
these  three  years ;  having  a  long  family,  we  found  it  best  to  dis- 
perse about  where  the  best  wages  was  to  be  got.  We  began  sav- 
ing the  first  year,  and  my  daughters  have  married  pretty  well, 
and  my  boys  got  to  know  the  ways  of  the  country.  There's  three 
of  them  married,  thanks  to  your  ladyship;  so  we  thought  we 
could  set  up  for  ourselves.  And  we've  done  pretty  tidy.  So,  as 
they  were  all  busy  at  home,  I  went  down  for  the  first  time  to  get 
a  couple  of  mares,  and  see  about  hiring  some  lads  out  of  the  ships 
to  help  us.  You  see  I  have  picked  up  two  newish  ones  ;  I  have 
docked  their  frocks  to  a  useful  length,  and  I  think  they'll  do 
^fter  a  bit ;  they  can't  read,  neither  of  them — no  more  could  I 
when  I  first  came — but  our  teacher  (she's  one  my  missis  had 
from  you)  will  soon  fettle  them ;  and  I've  got  a  power  of  things 
on  the  dray ;  I  wish  you  could  be  there  at  unloading ;  for  it  being 
my  first  visit,  I  wanted  something  for  all  of  them.  But  about 
this  babby  is  a  curious  job.  When  I  went  aboard  the  ship  to 
hire  my  shepherds,  I  looked  out  for  some  of  my  own  country ; 
and  while  I  was  asking,  I  heard  of  a  poor  woman  whose  husband 


OF   ENGLAND.  357 

had  been  drowned  in  a  drunken  fit  on  the  voyage,  that  was  lying 
very  ill,  with  a  young  babby,  and  not  likely  to  live. 

"  *  Something  made  me  go  to  see  her ;  she  had  no  friends  on 
board,  she  knew  no  one  in  the  colony.  She  started,  like,  at  my 
voice  ;  one  word  brought  on  another,  when  it  came  out  she  was 
the  wife  of  the  son  of  my  greatest  enemy. 

"  *  She  had  been  his  father's  servant,  and  married  the  son  se- 
cretly. When  it  was  found  out,  he  had  to  leave  the  country; 
thinking  that  once  in  Australia,  the  father  would  be  reconciled, 
and  the  business  that  put  her  husband  in  danger  might  be 
settled.  For  this  son  *was  a  wild,  wicked  man,  worse  than  the 
father,  but  with  those  looks  and  ways  that  take  the  hearts  of  poor 
lasses.  Well,  as  we  talked,  and  I  questioned  her — for  she  did  not 
seem  so  ill  as  they  had  told  me — she  began  to  ask  me  who  I  was, 
and  I  did  not  want  to  tell ;  when  I  hesitated,  she  guessed,  and 
cried  out,  *  What,  John  Bodger,  is  it  thee  1' — and  with  that  she 
screamed,  and  screamed,  and  went  off  quite  light-headed,  and 
never  came  to  her  senses  until  she  died. 

" '  So,  as  there  was  no  one  to  care  for  the  poor  little  babby,  and 
as  we  had  such  a  lot  at  home,  what  with  my  own  children  and  my 
grandchildren,  I  thought  one  more  would  make  no  odds,  so  the 
gentleman  let  me  take  it,  after  I'd  seen  the  mother  decently 
buried. 

"'You  see  this  feeding's  a  very  awkward  job,  ma'am — and 
I've  been  five  days  on  the  road.  But  I  think  my  missis  will  be 
pleased  as  much  as  with  the  gown  I've  brought  her.' 

"  *  What/  said  Mrs.  C.,  '  are  you  the  John  Bodger  that  came 
over  in  the  *  Cassandra,' — the  John  B.  ?' 

" '  Yes,  ma'am.' 

"'John,  the  Brute?' 

"  '  Yes,  ma'am.     But  I'm  altered,  sure-Zy.' 

"'Well,'  continued  John,  'the  poor  woman  was  old  Joseph 
Lobbit's  daughter-in-law.  Her  husband  had  been  forging,  or 
something,  and  would  have  been  lagged  if  he'd  staid  in  England. 
I  don't  know  but  I  might  have  been  as  bad  if  I  had  not  got  out 
of  the  country  when  I  did.  But  there's  something  here  in  always 
getting  on ;  and  not  such  a  struggling  and  striving  that  softens  a 
P* 


358  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

poor  man's  heart.  And  I  trust  what  Fve  done  for  this  poor 
babby  and  its  mother  may  excuse  my  brutish  behaviour.  I 
could  not  help  thinking  when  I  was  burying  poor  Jenny  Lobbit, 
(I  mind  her  well,  a  nice  little  lass,  about  ten  years  old,)  I  could 
not  help  thinking  as  she  lay  in  a  nice,  cloth-covered  coffin,  and  a 
beautiful  stone  cut  with  her  name  and  age,  and  a  text  on  her 
grave,  how  different  it  is  even  for  poor  people  to  be  buried  here. 
Oh,  ma'am !  a  man  like  me,  with  a  long  family,  can  make  ahead 
here,  and  do  a  bit  of  good  for  others  worse  off.  We  live  while  we 
live ;  when  we  die  we  are  buried  with  decency.  I  remember, 
when  my  wife's  mother  died,  the  parish  officers  were  so  cross,  and 
the  boards  of  the  coffin  barely  stuck  together,  and  it  was  terrible 
cold  weather,  too.  My  Carry  used  to  cry  about  it  uncommonly 
all  the  winter.  The  swells  may  say  what  they  like  about  it,  but 
I'll  be  blessed  if  it  be'ent  worth  all  the  voyage  to  die  in  it.' 

"Not  many  days  afterward,  Mrs.  C.  saw  John  at  home,  sur- 
rounded by  an  army  of  sons  and  daughters ;  a  patriarch,  and 
yet  not  sixty  years  old ;  the  grandchild  of  his  greatest  enemy  the 
greatest  pet  of  the  family. 

"  In  my  mind's  eye  there  are  sometimes  two  pictures.  John 
Bodger  in  the  workhouse,  thinking  of  murder  and  fire-raising  in 
the  presence  of  his  prosperous  enemy ;  and  John  Bodger,  in  his 
happy  bush-home,  nursing  little  Nancy  Lobbit. 

"  At  Duxmoor  the  shop  has  passed  into  other  hands.  The  ex- 
shopkeeper  has  bought  and  rebuilt  the  manor-house.  He  is  the 
squire,  now,  wealthier  than  ever  he  dreamed;  on  one  estate  a 
mine  has  been  found ;  a  railway  has  crossed  and  doubled  the 
value  of  another ;  but  his  son  is  dead  ;  his  daughter  has  left  him, 
and  lives,  he  knows  not  where,  a  life  of  shame.  Childless  and 
friendless,  the  future  is,  to  him,  cheerless  and  without  hope.'' 

Poor-law  guardians  are  characters  held  in  very  low 
esteem  by  the  Irish  serfs,  who  are  not  backward  in 
expressing  their  contempt.  The  feeling  is  a  natural  one, 
as  will  appear  from  considering  who  those  guardians 
generally  are,  and  how  they  perform  their  duties : — 


OF   ENGLAND.  359 

"At  the  introduction  of  the  poor-law  into  Ireland,  the  work- 
houses were  built  by  means  of  loans  advanced  by  the  Government 
on  the  security  of  the  rates.  Constructed  generally  in  that  style 
of  architecture  called  *  Elizabethan/  they  were  the  most  imposing 
in  the  country  in  elevation  and  frequency,  and,  placed  usually  in 
the  wretched  suburbs  of  towns  and  villages,  formed  among  the 
crumbling  and  moss-grown  cottages,  a  pleasing  contrast  in  the 
eye  of  the  tourist.  They  were  calculated  to  accommodate  from 
five  hundred  to  two  thousand  inmates,  according  to  the  area  and 
population  of  the  annexed  district ;  but  some  of  them  remained 
for  years  altogether  closed,  or,  if  open,  nearly  unoccupied,  owing 
to  the  ingenious  shifts  of  the  *  Guardians,'  under  the  advice  of  the 
'  Solicitor  of  the  Board/  Their  object  was  to  economize  the  re- 
sources of  the  Union,  to  keep  the  rates  down,  and  in  some  in- 
stances they  evaded  the  making  of  any  rate  for  years  after  the 
support  of  the  destitute  was  made  nominally  imperative  by  the 
law  of  the  land. 

"  As  there  was  a  good  deal  of  patronage  in  a  small  way  placed 
at  the  disposal  of  the  *  Guardians/  great  anxiety  was  manifested 
by  those  eligible  to  the  office.  Most  justices  of  the  peace  were, 
indeed,  ipso  facto,  Guardians,  but  a  considerable  number  had  to 
be  elected  by  the  rate-payers,  and  an  active  canvass  preceded 
every  election.  A  great  deal  of  activity  and  conviviality,  if  not 
gayety,  was  the  result,  and  more  apparently  important  affairs  were 
neglected  by  many  a  farmer,  shopkeeper,  and  professional  man, 
to  insure  his  being  elected  a  '  Guardian/  while  the  unsuccessful 
took  pains  to  prove  their  indifference,  or  to  vent  their  ill-humour 
in  various  ways,  sometimes  causing  less  innocuous  effects  than 
the  following  sally: — 

"  At  a  certain  court  of  quarter  sessions,  during  the  dog-day  heat 
of  one  of  these  contests,  a  burly  fellow  was  arraigned  before 
'their  worships'  and  the  jury,  charged  with  some  petty  theft; 
and  as  he  perceived  that  the  proofs  were  incontestably  clear 
against  him,  he  fell  into  a  very  violent  trepidation.  An  attorney 
of  the  court,  not  overburdened  with  business,  and  fond  of  occu- 
pying his  idle  time  in  playing  off  practical  jokes,  perceiving  how 
the  case  stood,  addressed  the  prisoner  in  a  whisper  over  the  side 


360  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

of  the  dock,  with  a  very  ominous  and  commiserating  shake  of  his 
head : 

"  *  Ah,  you  unfortunate  man,  ye'll  be  found  guilty;  and  as  sure 
as  ye  are,  ye'll  get  worse  than  hangin'  or  thransportation.  As 
sure  as  ever  the  barristher  takes  a  pinch  of  snuff,  that's  his  inten- 
tion;, ye'll  see  him  put  on  the  black  cap  immaydiately.  Plaid 
guilty  at  once,  and  I'll  tell  ye  what  ye'll  say  to  him  afther/ 

"The  acute  practitioner  knew  his  man;  the  poor  half-witted 
culprit  fell  into  the  snare ;  and  after  a  short  and  serious  whisper- 
ing between  them,  which  was  unobserved  in  the  bustle  of  the 
court-house  usual  on  such  occasions,  the  prisoner  cried  out,  just 
as  the  issue-paper  was  going  up  to  the  jury,  '  Me  lord,  me  lord,  I 
plaid  guilty;  I  beg  your  wortchip's  an'  their  honours'  pardon. 

"  '  Very  well/  said  the  assistant  barrister,  whose  duty  it  was 
to  advise  upon  the  law  of  each  case,  and  preside  at  the  bench  in 
judicial  costume;  'very  well,  sir.  Crier,  call  silence.' 

"  Several  voices  immediately  called  energetically  for  silence, 
impressing  the  culprit  with  grave  ideas  at  once  of  his  worship's 
great  importance,  and  the  serious  nature  of  the  coming  sentence. 

"  '  Withdraw  the  plea  of  not  guilty,  and  take  one  of  guilty  to 
the  felony/  continued  the  assistant  barrister,  taking  a  pinch  of 
snuff  and  turning  round  to  consult  his  brother  magistrates  as  to 
the  term  of  intended  incarceration. 

"  *  Don't  lose  yer  time,  ye  omodhaun!'  said  the  attorney,  with 
an  angry  look  at  the  prisoner. 

"  'Will  I  be  allowed  to  spake  one  word,  yer  wortchips?'  said 
the  unfortunate  culprit. 

"  'What  has  he  to  say?'  said  the  assistant  barrister  with  con- 
siderable dignity. 

"  '  Go  on,  ye  fool  ye/  urged  the  attorney. 

"  '  My  lord,  yer  wortchips,  and  gintlemin  av  the  jury/  exclaimed 
the  culprit,  '  sind  me  out  o'  the  counthry,  or  into  jail,  or  breakin' 
stones,  or  walkin'  on  the  threadmill,  or  any  thing  else  in  the 
coorse  o'  nature,  as  yer  wortchips  playses ;  but  for  the  love  o'  the 
Virgin  Mary,  don't  make  me  a  Poor-Law  Gargin.'  "* 

*  Household  Words. 


OF  ENGLAND.  861 

The  most  recent  legislation  of  the  British  government 
in  regard  to  Ireland,  the  enactment  of  the  Poor-law 
and  the  Encumbered  Estates  Act,  has  had  but  one  grand 
tendency — that  of  diminishing  the  number  of  the  popu- 
lation, which  is,  indeed,  a  strange  way  to  improve  the 
condition  of  the  nation.  The  country  was  not  too 
thickly  populated;  far  from  it:  great  tracts  of  land 
were  entirely  uninhabited.  The  exterminating  acts 
were,  therefore,  only  measures  of  renewed  tyranny.  To 
enslave  a  people  is  a  crime  of  sufficient  enormity;  but 
to  drive  them  from  the  homes  of  their  ancestors  to  seek 
a  refuge  in  distant  and  unknown  lands,  is  such  an  action 
as  only  the  most  monstrous  of  governments  would  dare 
to  perform. 

We  have  thus  shown  that  Ireland  has  long  endured, 
and  still  endures,  a  cruel  system  of  slavery,  for  which 
we  may  seek  in  vain  for  a  parallel.  It  matters  not 
that  the  Irish  serf  may  leave  his  country ;  while  he 
remains  he  is  a  slave  to  a  master  who  will  not  call  him 
property,  chiefly  because  it  would  create  the  necessity 
of  careful  and  expensive  ownership.  If  the  Irish  mas- 
ter took  his  labourer  for  his  slave  in  the  American, 
sense,  he  would  be  compelled  to  provide  for  him,  work 
or  not  work,  in  sickness  and  in  old  age.  Thus  tho 
master  reaps  the  benefits,  and  escapes  the  penalties  of 
slave-holding.  He  takes  the  fruits  of  the  labourer's 
toil  without  providing  for  him  as  the  negro  slaves  of 
America  are  provided  for ;  nay>  very  often  Ire  refuses 

24 


362  THE    WHITE   SLAVES 

the  poor  wretch  a  home  at  any  price.  In  no  other 
country  does  the  slaveholder  seem  so  utterly  reckless 
in  regard  to  human  life  as  in  Ireland.  After  draining 
all  possible  profit  from  his  labourer's  service  he  turns 
him  forth  as  a  pauper,  to  get  scant  food  if  workhouse 
officials  choose  to  give  it,  and  if  not,  to  starve  by  the 
wayside.  The  last  great  famine  was  the  direct  result 
of  this  accursed  system  of  slavery.  It  was  oppression 
of  the  worst  kind  that  reduced  the  mass  of  the  people 
to  depend  for  their  subsistence  upon  the  success  or 
failure  of  the  potato  crop ;  and  the  horrors  that  fol- 
lowed the  failure  of  the  crop  were  as  much  the  results 
of  misgovernment  as  the  crimes  of  the  French  Revolu- 
tion were  the  consequences  of  feudal  tyranny,  too  long 
endured.  Can  England  ever  accomplish  sufficient 
penance  for  her  savage  treatment  of  Ireland  ? 

Some  English  writers  admit  that  the  degradation  of 
the  Irish  and  the  wretched  condition  of  the  country 
can  scarcely  be  overdrawn,  but  seek  for  the  causes  of 
this  state  of  things  in  the  character  of  the  people. 
But  why  does  the  Irishman  work,  prosper,  and  achieve 
wealth  and  position  under  every  other  government  but 
that  of  Ireland  ?  This  would  not  be  the  case  if  there 
was  any  thing  radically  wrong  in  the  Irish  nature.  In 
the  following  extract  from  an  article  in  the  Edin- 
burgh Review,  we  have  a  forcible  sketch  of  the  con- 
dition of  Ireland,  coloured  some\Yhat  to  suit  English 


OP  ENGLAND.  363 

"  It  is  obvious  that  the  insecurity  of  a  community  in  which  the 
bulk  of  the  population  form  a  conspiracy  against  the  law,  must 
prevent  the  importation  of  capital ;  must  occasion  much  of  what 
is  accumulated  there  to  be  exported ;  and  must  diminish  the  mo- 
tives and  means  of  accumulation.  Who  will  send  his  property  to 
a  place  where  he  cannot  rely  on  its  being  protected  ?  Who  will 
voluntarily  establish  himself  in  a  country  which  to-morrow  may 
be  in  a  state  of  disturbance  ?  A  state  in  which,  to  use  the  words 
of  Chief  Justice  Bushe,  'houses  and  barns  and  granaries  are 
levelled,  crops  are  laid  waste,  pasture-lands  are  ploughed,  planta- 
tions are  torn  up,  meadows  are  thrown  open  to  cattle,  cattle  are 
maimed,  tortured,  killed ;  persons  are  visited  by  parties  of  ban- 
ditti, who  inflict  cruel  torture,  mutilate  their  limbs,  or  beat  them 
almost  to  death.  Men  who  have  in  any  way  become  obnoxious 
to  the  insurgents,  or  opposed  their  system,  or  refused  to  partici- 
pate in  their  outrages,  are  deliberately  assassinated  in  the  open 
day ;  and  sometimes  the  unoffending  family  are  indiscriminately 
murdered  by  burning  the  habitation.'*  A  state  in  which  even 
those  best  able  to  protect  themselves,  the  gentry,  are  forced  to 
build  up  all  their  lower  windows  with  stone  and  mortar ;  to  ad- 
mit light  only  into  one  sitting-room,  and  not  into  all  the  windows 
of  that  room ;  to  fortify  every  other  inlet  by  bullet-proof  barri- 
cades ;  to  station  sentinels  around  during  all  the  night  and  the 
greater  part  of  the  day,  and  to  keep  firearms  in  all  the  bed- 
rooms, and  even  on  the  side-table  at  breakfast  and  dmner-time.f 
Well  might  Bishop  Doyle  exclaim,  '  I  do  not  blame  the  absentees; 
I  would  be  an  absentee  myself  if  I  could/ 

"  The  state  of  society  which  has  been  described  may  be  con- 
sidered as  a  proof  of  the  grossest  ignorance ;  for  what  can  be  a 
greater  proof  of  ignorance  than  a  systematic  opposition  to  law, 
carried  on  at  the  constant  risk  of  liberty  and  of  life,  and  pro- 

*  Charge  on  the  Marlborough  Commission,  p.  5.  Cited  in  Lewis's 
Irish  Disturbances,  p.  227. 

f  See  the  evidence  of  Mr.  Blacker,  House  of  Commons'  Report  on 
the  State  of  Ireland,  1824,  p.  75;  that  of  Mr.  Griffiths,  ibid.  232; 
and  that  of  Mr.  Blacker,  House  of  Lords'  Report,  1824,  p.  14. 


364  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

ducing  where  it  is  most  successful,  in  the  rural  districts,  one  level 
of  hopeless  poverty,  and  in  the  towns,  weeks  of  high  wages  and 
months  without  employment — a  system  in  which  tremendous 
risks  and  frightful  sufferings  are  the  means,  and  general  misery 
is  the  result  ?  The  ignorance,  however,  which  marks  the  greater 
part  of  the  population  in  Ireland,  is  not  merely  ignorance  of  the 
moral  and  political  tendency  of  their  conduct — an  ignorance  in 
which  the  lower  orders  of  many  more  advanced  communities  par- 
ticipate— but  ignorance  of  the  businesses  which  are  their  daily 
occupations.  It  is  ignorance,  not  as  citizens  and  subjects,  but  as 
cultivators  and  labourers.  They  are  ignorant  of  the  proper  rota- 
tion of  crops,  of  the  preservation  and  use  of  manure — in  a  word, 
of  the  means  by  which  the  land,  for  which  they  are  ready  to 
sacrifice  their  neighbours'  lives,  and  to  risk  their  own,  is  to  be 
made  productive.  Their  manufactures,  such  as  they  are,  are 
rude  and  imperfect,  and  the  Irish  labourer,  whether  'peasant  or 
artisan,  who  emigrates  to  Great  Britain,  never  possesses  skill 
sufficient  to  raise  him  above  the  lowest  ranks  in  his  trade. 

"  Indolence — the  last  of  the  causes  to  which  we  have  attributed 
the  existing  misery  of  Ireland — is  not  so  much  an  independent 
source  of  evil  as  the  result  of  the  combination  of  all  others.  Tho 
Irishman  does  not  belong  to  the  races  that  are  by  nature  averse 
from  toil.  In  England,  Scotland,  or  America  he  can  work  hard. 
He  is  said,  indeed,  to  require  more  overlooking  than  the  natives 
of  any  of  these  countries,  and  to  be  less  capable,  or,  to  speak 
more  correctly,  to  be  less  willing  to  surmount  difficulties  by  pa- 
tient intellectual  exertion;  but  no  danger  deters,  no  disagree- 
ableness  disgusts,  no  bodily  fatigue  discourages  him. 

"  But  in  his  own  country  he  is  indolent.  All  who  have  com- 
pared the  habits  of  hired  artisans  or  of  the  agricultural  labourers 
in  Ireland  with  those  of  similar  classes  in  England  or  Scotland, 
admit  the  inferiority  of  industry  of  the  former.  The  indolence 
of  the  great  mass  of  the  people,  the  occupiers  of  land,  is  obvious 
even  to  the  passing  traveller.  Even  in  Ulster,  the  province  in 
which,  as  we  have  already  remarked,  the  peculiarities  of  the 
Irish  character  are  least  exhibited,  not  only  are  the  cabins,  and 
even  the  farm-houses,  deformed  within  and  without  by  accumula- 


OF   ENGLAND.  365 

tions  of  filth,  which  the  least  exertion  would  remove,  but  the  land 
itself  is  suffered  to  waste  a  great  portion  of  its  productive  power. 
We  have  ourselves  seen  field  after  field  in  which  the  weeds 
covered  as  much  space  as  the  crops.  From  the  time  that  his 
crops  are  sowed  and  planted  until  they  are  reaped  the  peasant 
and  his  family  are  cowering  over  the  fire,  or  smoking,  or  lounging 
before  the  door,  when  an  hour  or  two  a  day  employed  in  weeding 
their  potatoes,  oats,  or  flax,  would  perhaps  increase  the  produce 
by  one-third. 

"  The  indolence  of  the  Irish  artisan  is  sucffiiently  accounted  for 
by  the  combinations  which,  by  prohibiting  piece-work,  requiring 
all  the  workmen  to  be  paid  by  the  day  and  at  the  same  rate,  pro- 
hibiting a  good  workman  from  exerting  himself,  have  destroyed 
the  motives  to  industry.  '  I  consider  it/  says  Mr.  Murray,  '  a 
very  hard  rule  among  them,  that  the  worst  workman  that  ever 
took  a  tool  in  his  hand,  should  be  paid  the  same  as  the  best,  but 
that  is  the  rule  and  regulation  of  the  society ;  and  that  there  was 
only  a  certain  quantity  of  work  allowed  to  be  done ;  so  that,  if 
one  workman  could  turn  more  work  out  of  his  hands,  he  durst 
not  go  on  with  it.  There  is  no  such  thing  as  piece-work ;  and  if 
a  bad  man  is  not  able  to  get  through  his  work,  a  good  workman 
dare  not  go  further  than  he  does.'* 

"The  indolence  of  the  agricultural  labourer  arises,  perhaps, 
principally  from  his  labour  being  almost  always  day-work,  and 
in  a  great  measure  a  mere  payment  of  debt — a  mere  mode  of 
working  out  his  rent.  That  of  the  occupier  may  be  attributed  to 
a  combination  of  causes.  In  the  first  place,  a  man  must  be  mas- 
ter of  himself  to  a  degree  not  common  even  among  the  educated 
classes,  before  he.  can  be  trusted  to  be  his  own  task-master. 
Even  among  the  British  manufacturers,  confessedly  the  most  in- 
dustrious labourers  in  Europe,  those  who  work  in  their  own 
houses  are  comparatively  idle  and  irregular,  and  yet  they  work 
under  the  stimulus  of  certain  and  immediate  gain.  The  Irish 
occupier,  working  for  a  distant  object,  dependent  in  some 

*  House  of  Commons*  Committee  on  Combinations,  1838.  Ques- 
tions 5872-5876. 


366  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

measure  on  the  seasons,  and  with  no  one  to  control  or  even  to 
advise  him,  puts  off  till  to-morrow  what  need  not  necessarily  be 
done  to-day — puts  off  till  next  year  what  need  not  necessarily  be 
done  this  year,  and  ultimately  leaves  much  totally  undone. 

"  Again,  there  is  no  damper  so  effectual  as  liability  to  taxation 
proportioned  to  the  means  of  payment.  It  is  by  this  instrument 
that  the  Turkish  government  has  destroyed  the  industry,  the 
wealth,  and  ultimately  the  population  of  what  were  once  the 
most  flourishing  portions  of  Asia — perhaps  of  the  world.  It  is 
thus  that  the  faille  ruined  the  agriculture  of  the  most  fertile  por- 
tions of  France.  Now,  the  Irish  occupier  has  long  been  subject 
to  this  depressive  influence,  and  from  various  sources.  The  com- 
petition for  land  has  raised  rents  to  an  amount  which  can  be  paid 
only  under  favourable  circumstances.  Any  accident  throws  the 
tenant  into  an  arrear,  and  the  arrear  is  kept  a  subsisting  charge, 
to  be  enforced  if  he  should  appear  capable  of  paying  it.  If  any 
of  the  signs  of  prosperity  are  detected  in  his  crop,  his  cabin,  his 
clothes,  or  his  food,  some  old  demand  may  be  brought  up  against 
him.  Again,  in  many  districts  a  practice  prevails  of  letting  land 
to  several  tenants,  each  of  whom  is  responsible  for  the  whole  rent, 
lifcis  not  merely  the  consequenpe,  but  the  intention,  that  those  who 
can  afford  to  pay  should  pay  for  those  who  cannot.  Again,  it  is 
from  taxation,  regulated  by  apparent  property,  that  all  the  reve- 
nues of  the  Irish  Catholic  Church  are  drawn.  The  half-yearly 
offerings,  the  fees  on  marriages  and  christenings,  and,  what 
is  more  important,  the  contributions  to  the  priests  made  on 
those  occasions  by  the  friends  of  the  parties,  are  all  assessed  by 
public  opinion,  according  to  the  supposed  means  of  the  payer. 
An  example  of  the  mode  in  which  this  works,  occurred  a  few 
months  ago,  within  our  own  knowledge.  £300  was  wanted  by  a 
loan  fund,  in  a  Catholic  district  in  the  North  of  Ireland.  In  the 
night,  one  of  the  farmers,  a  man  apparently  poor,  came  to  his  land- 
lord, the  principal  proprietor  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  offered 
to  lend  the  money,  if  the  circumstance  could  be  kept  from  his 
priest.  His  motive  for  concealment  was  asked,  and  he  answered, 
that,  if  the  priest  knew  he  had  £300  at  interest,  his  dues  would 
be  doubled.  Secrecy  was  promised,  and  a  stocking  was  brought 


OF  ENGLAND  367 

from  its  hiding-place  in  the  roof,  filled  with  notes  and  coin,  which 
had  been  accumulating  for  years  until  a  secret  investment  could 
be  found.  Again,  for  many  years  past  a  similar  taxation  has  ex- 
isted for  political  purposes.  The  Catholic  rent,  the  O'Connell 
tribute,  and  the  Repeal  rent,  like  every  other  tax  that  is  unsanc- 
tioned  by  law,  must  be  exacted,  to  a  larger  or  smaller  amount, 
from  every  cottier,  or  farmer,  as  he  is  supposed  to  be  better  or 
worse  able  to  provide  for  them. 

"  Who  can  wonder  that  the  cultivator,  who  is  exposed  to  these 
influences,  should  want  the  industry  and  economy  which  give 
prosperity  to  the  small  farmer  in  Belgium  ?  What  motive  has  he 
for  industry  and  economy?  It  may  be  said  that  he  has  the  same 
motive  in  kind,  though  not  in  degree,  as  the  inhabitants  of  a  hap- 
pier country  ;  since  the  new  demand  to  which  any  increase  of  his 
means  would  expose  him  probably  would  not  exhaust  the  whole 
of  that  increase.  The  same  might  be  said  of  the  subjects  of  the 
Pasha.  There  are  inequalities  of  fortune  among  the  cultivators 
of  Egypt,  just  as  there  were  inequalities  in  that  part  of  France 
which  was  under  the  faille.  No  taxation  ever  exhausted  the  whole 
surplus  income  of  all  its  victims.  But  when  a  man  cannot  calcu- 
late the  extent  to  which  the  exaction  may  go — when  all  he  knows 
is,  that  the  more  he  appears  to  have  the  more  will  be  demanded — 
when  he  knows  that  every  additional  comfort  which  he  is  seen  to 
enjoy,  and  every  additional  productive  instrument  which  he  is 
found  to  possess,  may  be  a  pretext  for  a  fresh  extortion,-  he  turns 
careless  or  sulky — he  yields  to  the  strong  temptation  of  indolence 
and  of  immediate  excitement  and  enjoyment — he  becomes  less 
industrious,  and  therefore  produces  less — he  becomes  less  frugal, 
and  therefore,  if  he  saves  at  all,  saves  a  smaller  portion  of  that 
smaller  product," 

For  the  turbulence  of  the  Irish  people,  the  general 
indolence  of  the  labourers  and  artisans,  and  the  misery 
that  exists,  the  writer  of  the  above  sketch  has  causes 
worthy  of  the  acuteness  of  Sir  James  Graham,  or  some 
other  patent  political  economist  of  the  aristocracy  of 


368  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

England.  We  need  not  comment.  We  have  only  made 
the  above  quotation  to  show  to  what  a  condition  Ireland 
has  been  reduced,  according  to  the  admissions  of  an 
aristocratic  organ  of  England,  leaving  the  reader  ac- 
quainted with  the  history  of  English  legislation  in  re- 
gard to  the  unhappy  island  to  make  the  most  natural 
inferences. 

The  ecclesiastical  system  of  Ireland  has  long  been 
denounced  as  an  injury  and  an  insult.  As  an  insult  it 
has  no  parallel  in  history.  Oppression  and  robbery  in 
matters  connected  with  religion  have  been  unhappily 
frequent;  but  in  all  other  cases  the  oppressed  and 
robbed  have  been  the  minority.  That  one-tenth  of  the 
population  of  a  great  country  should  appropriate  to 
themselves  the  endowment  originally  provided  for  all 
their  countrymen ;  that,  without  even  condescending  to 
inquire  whether  there  were  or  were  not  a  congregation 
of  their  own  persuasion  to  profit  by  them,  they  should 
seize  the  revenues  of  every  benefice,  should  divert  them 
from  their  previous  application,  and  should  hand  them 
over  to  an  incumbent  of  their  own,  to  be  wasted  as  a 
sinecure  if  they  were  not  wanted  for  the  performance 
of  a  duty — this  is  a  treatment  of  which  the  contumely 
stings  more  sharply  even  than  the  injustice,  enormous 
as  that  is.* 

The  tax  of  a  tithe  for  the  support  of  a  church  in 

*  Edinburgh  Review. 


OF   ENGLAND.  369 

•which  they  have  no  faith  is  a  grievance  of  which  Irish 
Catholics,  who  compose  nine-tenths  of  the  population 
of  Ireland,  complain  with  the  greatest  reason.  Of 
what  benefit  to  them  is  a  church  which  they  despise  ? 
The  grand  reason  for  the  existence  of  an  established 
church  fails  under  such  circumstances.  The  episcopal 
institutions  can  communicate  no  religious  instruction, 
because  the  creed  which  they  sustain  is  treated  with 
contempt.  But  where  is  the  use  of  argument  in  regard 
to  this  point.  The  Established  Church  affords  many 
luxurious  places  for  the  scions  of  the  aristocracy,  and 
there  lies  the  chief  purpose  of  its  existence.  The  op- 
pressive taxation  of  Catholics  to  support  a  Protestant 
church  will  cease  with  the  aristocracy. 


370  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE   MENIAL   SLAVES   OP   GREAT   BRITAIN. 

THE  spirit  of  British  institutions  is  nowhere  more 
plainly  and  offensively  manifested  than  in  the  treat- 
ment which  domestic  servants  receive.  The  haughty 
bearing,  the  constant  display  of  supreme  contempt, 
and  the  frequency  of  downright  cruelty  on,  the  part  of 
the  master  or  mistress,  and  the  complete  abasement 
and  submission  of  the  servant,  have  been  repeatedly 
subjects  of  observation,  and  show  clearly  that  the  days 
of  "lord  and  thrall"  are  vividly  remembered  in  Great 
Britain.  In  Miss  Martineau's  "  Society  in  America/' 
we  find  some  observations  to  the  point.  She  says — 

"  However  fascinating  to  Americans  may  be  the  luxury,  con- 
versational freedom,  and  high  intellectual  cultivation  of  English 
society,  they  cannot  fail  to  be  disgusted  with  the  aristocratic  in- 
solence which  is  the  vice  of  the  whole.  The  puerile  and  bar- 
baric spirit  of  contempt  is  scarcely  known  in  America ;  the 
English  insolence  of  class  to  class,  of  individuals  toward  each 
other,  is  not  even  conceived  of,  except  in  the  one  highly  disgrace- 
ful instance  of  the  treatment  of  people  of  colour.  Nothing  in 
American  civilization  struck  me  so  forcibly  and  so  pleasurably 
as  the  invariable  respect  paid  to  man,  as  man.  Nothing  since 


OF   ENGLAND.  371 

my  return  to  England  has  given  me  so  much  pain  as  the  contrast 
there.  Perhaps  no  Englishman  can  become  fully  aware,  without 
going  to  America,  of  the  atmosphere  of  insolence  in  which  he 
dwells ;  of  the  taint  of  contempt  which  infects  all  the  intercourses 
of  his  world.  He  cannot  imagine  how  all  he  can  say  that  is 
truest  and  best  about  the  treatment  of  people  of  colour  in  Ame- 
rica, is  neutralized  on  the  spot  by  its  being  understood  how  the 
same  contempt  is  spread  over  the  whole  of  society  here,  which  is 
there  concentrated  upon  the  blacks." 

It  has  been  remarked  that  those  who  are  most  sub- 
missive as  serfs  are  the  most  arrogant  and  tyrannical 
as  lords.  In  Great  Britain,  from  dukes  down  to  work- 
house officials,  the  truth  of  this  remark  is  obvious. 
Each  class  treats  its  superior  with  abject  deference, 
and  its  inferior  with  overbearing  insolence.  The  corol- 
lary of  our  quotation  from  Miss  Martineau  is  that  the 
treatment  masters  give  to  their  negro  slaves  in  America, 
in  their  common  intercourse,  is  what  masters  give  to 
their  servants  in  Great  Britain.  In  the  free  States  of 
America  a  master  may  command  his  servant,  and  if 
obedience  is  refused  he  may  deduct  from  his  wages  or 
give  him  a  discharge,  but  the  laws  prevent  all  violence ; 
the  man  is  never  forgotten  in  the  servant.  Another 
state  of  affairs  is  to  be  found  in  Great  Britain.  The 
laws  are  inadequate  in  their  construction  and  too  costly 
in  their  administration  to  protect  the  poor  servant. 
Should  he  refuse  obedience,  or  irritate  his  master  in 
any  way,  his  punishment  is  just  as  likely  to  be  kicks  and 
blows  as  a  discharge  or  a  reduction  of  wages.  English- 


372  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

men  have  frequently  complained,  while  doing  business 
in  the  United  States,  because  they  were  prevented  from 
striking  refractory  persons  in  their  employ.  In  at- 
tempting to  act  out  their  tyrannical  ideas,  such  em- 
ployers have  been  severely  chastised  by  their  free, 
republican  servants. 

What  the  serf  of  the  feudal  baron  in  the  twelfth  cen- 
tury was,  the  servant  of  modern  days  is,  in  the  eyes  of 
the  lords  and  ladies  of  Great  Britain.  Between  these 
aristocrats  and  their  retainers  there  exists  no  fellow- 
feeling  ;  the  ties  of  our  common  brotherhood  are 
snapped  asunder,  and  a  wide  and  startling  gap  inter- 
venes. « Implicit  obedience  to  commands,  and  a  sub- 
missive, respectful  demeanour  on  the  one  hand,  are 
repaid  by  orders  given  in  the  most  imperative  tone,  to 
perform  the  most  degrading  offices,  and  by  a  con- 
temptuous, haughty  demeanour  on  the  other  hand.  In 
the  servant  the  native  dignity  of  our  nature  is  for  the 
time  broken  and  crushed.  In  the  master  the  worst 
passion  of  our  nature  is  exhibited  in  all  its  hideous  de- 
formity. The  spirit  that  dictated  the  expression,  'I 
am  the  porcelain,  you  are  only  the  common  clay,'  is  not 
confined  to  the  original  speaker,  but,  with  few  excep- 
tions, is  very  generally  participated  in.  It  is  not, 
however,  solely  by  the  aristocratic  class  that  the  ser- 
vant is  treated  with  such  contumely,  the  fault  is  largely 
participated  in  by  the  middle  and  working  classes. 


OF  ENGLAND.  873 

The  feelings  of  the  English  people  are  essentially  aris- 
tocratic."* 

Until  recently  an  order  was  placed  at  the  entrance 
to  Kensington  Gardens,  which  read  as  follows: — "No 
Dogs  or  Livery  Servants  admitted."  What  more  con- 
clusive evidence  of  the  degraded  condition  of  menial 
servants  in  Great  Britain  could  be  obtained.  A  fellow- 
man,  of  good  character — a  necessary  conclusion  from 
his  being  in  a  situation — is  placed  on  a  level  with 
brutes.  The  livery  seems  as  much  the  badge  of  slavery 
in  the  nineteenth  century  as  the  collar  of  iron  was  in 
the  days  of  baron  and  villain.  It  is  a  bar  to  the  recep- 
tion of  a  servant  in  any  genteel  society,  and  thus  con- 
stantly reminds  him  of  his  debased  condition.  He  can 
have  but  little  hope  of  improving  that  condition,  when 
all  intercourse  with  persons  of  superior  fortune  or 
attainments  is  so  effectually  prevented.  A  menial  he 
is,  and  menials  must  his  children  be,  unless  they  should 
meet  with  extraordinary  fortune.  The  following  letter 
of  a  footman  recently  appeared  in  the  "Times"  news- 
paper. It  is  manly,  and  to  the  point. 

"  Many  articles  having  appeared  in  your  paper  under  the  term 
'  Flunkeyana/  all  depreciatory  of  poor  flunkeys,  may  I  be  allowed 
to  claim  a  fair  and  impartial  hearing  on  the  other  side  ?  I  am  a 
footman,  a  liveried  flunkey,  a  pampered  menial — terms  which 
one  Christian  employs  to  another,  simply  because  he  is,  by  the 
Almighty  Dispenser  of  all  things,  placed,  in  his  wisdom,  lower 

*  Servants  and  Servitude,  in  Hewitt's  Journal. 


374  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

in  life  than  the  other.  Not  yet  having  seen  any  defence  of 
servants,  may  I  trust  to  your  candour  and  your  generosity  to 
insert  this  humble  apology  for  a  set  of  men  constrained  by  cir- 
cumstances to  earn  their  living  by  servitude  ?  The  present  cry 
seems  to  be  to  lower  their  wages.  I  will  state  simply  a  few  broad 
facts.  I  am  a  footman  in  a  family  in  which  I  have  lived  thirteen 
years.  My  master  deems  my  services  worth  24  guineas  a  year. 
The  question  is,  is  this  too  much  ?  I  will  strike  the  average  of 
expenditure.  I  am  very  economical,  it  is  considered.  I  find  for 
washing  I  pay  near  £6  a  year ;  shoes,  £4  105. ;  tea  and  sugar, 
£2  12^. ;  wearing  apparel,  say  £4  4s. ;  for  books — I  am  a  reader 
— I  allow  myself  £1  7s.  You  will  see  this  amounts  to  £18  7s. 
each  year.  I  include  nothing  for  amusement  of  any  kind,  but 
say  13s.  yearly.  I  thus  account  for  £19  yearly,  leaving  £6  for 
savings.  One  or  two  other  things  deserve,  I  think,  a  slight  no- 
tice. What  is  the  character  required  of  a  mechanic  or  labourer  ? 
None.  What  of  a  servant  ?  Is  he  honest,  sober,  steady,  religious, 
cleanly,  active,  industrious,  an  early  riser  ?  Is  he  married  ?  Wo 
be  to  the  poor  fellow  who  does  not  answer  yes  to  this  category  of 
requests,  save  the  last !  The  answer  is,  Your  character  does  not 
suit ;  you  will  not  do  for  me.  Again :  does  a  servant  forget  him- 
self for  once  only,  and  get  tipsy? — he  is  ruined  for  life.  In  a 
word,  sir,  a  thorough  servant  must  be  sober,  steady,  honest,  and 
single  ;  he  must  never  marry,  must  never  be  absent  from  his  du- 
ties, must  attend  to  his  master  in  sickness  or  in  health,  must  be 
reviled  and  never  reply,  must  be  young,  able,  good-tempered, 
and  willing,  and  think  himself  overpaid  if  at  the  year's  end  he 
has  5s.  to  put  in  his  pocket.  In  old  age  or  sickness  he  may  go 
to  the  workhouse,  the  only  asylum  open.  In  youth  he  has  plenty 
of  the  best,  and  can  get  one  service  when  he  leaves  another,  if 
his  character  is  good ;  but  when  youth  deserts  him,  and  age  and 
sickness  creep  on,  what  refuge  is  there  for  him  ?  No  one  will 
have  him.  He  is  too  old  for  service,  that  is  his  answer.  In  ser- 
vice he  is  trusted  with  valuable  articles  of  every  description ;  and 
in  what  state  of  life,  whether  servant  or  artisan,  surely  he  who  is 
placed  in  situations  of  trust  deserves  a  trifle  more  of  recompense 
than  is  sufficient  to  pay  his  way  and  no  more." 


OF  ENGLAND.  375 

We  have  mentioned,  in  other  chapters,  some  in- 
stances of  the  cruel  treatment  of  parish  children  ap- 
prenticed to  trades.  We  have  also  evidence  that  those 
who  are  bound  out  as  servants  are  subjected  to  the  most 
brutal  tyranny.  Occasionally,  when  the  cases  become 
so  outrageous  as  to  be  noised  abroad,  investigations  are 
held ;  but  these  instances  are  few  compared  with  the 
vast  number  of  cases  of  cruel  treatment  of  which  the 
public  are  permitted  to  hear  nothing. 

In  the  latter  part  of  December,  1850,  one  Mr.  Sloane, 
a  special  pleader,  residing  in  the  Middle  Temple,  was 
guilty  of  the  most  frightful  cruelty  to  a  servant-girl 
named  Jane  Wilbred,  formerly  an  inmate  of  the  West 
London  Union.  The  girl,  or  some  of  her  friends,  com- 
plained, and  Mr.  Sloane  was  brought  before  Alderman 
Humphrey,  at  Guildhall.  During  the  examination, 
evidence  of  the  most  brutal  treatment  of  the  poor  girl 
was  given,  and  such  was  the  nature  of  the  statements 
made  on  oath  that  the  fury  of  the  people  was  aroused. 
Mr.  Sloane  was  committed  for  trial.  When  he  was 
conveyed  to  the  Compter  the  mob  attacked  the  cab,  and 
seemed  determined  to  apply  Lynch  law.  But  the 
wretch  was  safely  deposited  in  prison,  through  the  ex- 
ertions of  the  police.  He  was  tried,  convicted,  and 
sentenced  to  imprisonment ;  but  whether  he  served  out 
his  sentence  we  are  not  informed.  This  was  one  case 
of  punishment  for  a  thousand  of  impunity. 

So  great  was  the  indignation  of  the  people  at  the  de- 


376  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

velopments  made  upon  the  trial  of  Sloane,  that  some 
measure  of  alleviation  in  regard  to  parish  apprentices 
and  servants  was  deemed  necessary.  The  Earl  of 
Carlisle,  (late  Lord  Morpeth),  brought  in  a  bill  in  the 
House  of  Commons,  the  object  of  which  was  to  compel 
the  parish  guardians  and  the  binding  magistrates  to 
watch  over  and  protect  the  helpless  servants  and  ap- 
prentices. The  bill  was  passed  by  Parliament ;  but  it 
is  inoperative  and  ineffectual.  Parish  guardians  are  too 
glad  to  get  the  children  off  their  hands  to  take  any 
steps  which  might  retard  the  desired  consummation ; 
and  the  children  can  easily  be  prevented  from  making 
complaints  to  magistrates  by  the  threats  of  masters 
and  mistresses,  and  the  common  fear  of  consequences. 
In  this  case,  as  in  all  legislation  concerning  the  poor, 
the  Parliament  of  Great  Britain  has  proceeded  upon 
the  same  principle  as  the  physician  who  applies  external 
remedies  for  diseases  which  have  internal  causes.  In- 
stead of  endeavouring  to  remove  the  great  causes  of 
pauperism — the  monopolies  of  the  aristocracy — it  only 
seeks  to  render  the  paupers  easier  in  their  condition. 

Mr.  Mayhew,  in  his  « London  Labour  and  the  Lon- 
don Poor,"  shows  that  a  large  number  of  the  vagrants 
of  London  and  other  English  cities,  are  young  persons 
who  have  been  servants,  and  have  run  away' in  conse- 
quence of  ill-treatment.  Rather  than  be  constantly 
treated  as  slaves,  the  boys  prefer  to  be  vagabonds  and 
the  girls  prostitutes,  They  then  enjoy  a  wild  kind  of 


OF    ENGLAND.  377 

freedom,  which,  with  all  its  filth  and  vice,  has  some 
share  of  pleasure,  unknown  to  those  who  move  at  the 
beck  of  a  master  or  mistress,  and  live  in  constant  dread 
of  the  rod. 

In  those  countries  where  society  is  untainted  with 
aristocracy,  the  servant  when  performing  duties  is  re- 
spected as  a  human  being — with  a  mind  to  think  and  a 
heart  to  feel — one  to  be  reprimanded  or  discharged 
from  service  for  neglect  or  positive  wrong,  but  never 
beaten  as  a  soulless  beast.  In  England,  the  servant, 
to  hold  a  place,  must  be  a  most  abject,  cringing,  and 
submissive  slave.  In  some  countries,  the  taint  of  negro 
blood  keeps  a  man  always  in  the  position  of  an  inferior. 
In  England,  the  man  of  "serf  blood,"  though  he  be  a 
Celt  or  Saxon,  is  ever  treated  as  a  hind  by  the  man  of 
"noble  blood;"  and  the  possession  of  this  same  "noble 
blood"  justifies  the  most  infamous  scoundrel  in  treating 
his  domestics,  not  only  with  contempt,  but  positive 
cruelty.  Americans  have  been  charged  with  having  an 
undying  horror  of  the  negro  taint.  In  ^England,  the 
common  blood  is  just  as  steadily  abhorred  by  the  domi- 
nant class.  The  slavery  of  servants — their  hopeless, 
abject,  and  demoralizing  condition — is  the  result,  direct 
and  unmistakable,  of  the  existence  of  the  aristocracy. 
When  the  serfs  are  completely  freed  ;  when  the  country 
is  no  longer  ruled  by  a  few  thousand  persons ;  when  a 
long  line  of  ancestry  and  magnificent  escutcheons  cease 
to  dignify  imbeciles  and  blackguards;  in  short,  when 

32*  25 


378  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

England  takes  a  few  steps  upon  that  glorious  path 
which  the  great  American  republic  has  hewn  for  the 
nations  of  the  earth — there  will  be  sure  respect  for  man, 
as  man ;  and  the  servants  may  have  some  hope  of  im- 
proving their  condition. 


OP  ENGLAND.  379 


CHAPTER  IX. 

MENTAL  AND   MORAL   CONDITION   OF  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 
IN   GKEAT   BRITAIN. 

THE  moral  degradation  and  mental  darkness  of  the 
labouring  classes  in  Great  Britain  in  the  middle  of 
the  Nineteenth  century,  are  appalling  to  contemplate. 
Beneath  the  wing  of  a  government  professedly  Chris- 
tian, there  is  sheltered  a  vast  number  of  people  who 
must  be  characterized  as  heathen — as  fit  subjects  of 
missionary  labours,  such  as  are  freely  given  to  the  dark 
sons  of  India  and  Africa.  They  know  nothing  of  God 
but  his  prevailing  name ;  and  the  Bible's  light  is  hid 
from  them  as  completely  as  if  its  pages  were  inscribed 
with  Egyptian  hieroglyphics.  Their  code  of  morals  is 
the  creature  of  their  sensual  inclinations  ;  their  intelli- 
gence seemingly  the  superior  instinct  of  the  animal. 
Scotland  is  far  beyond  other  portions  of  Great  Britain 
in  the  moral  and  mental  cultivation  of  its  people ;  but 
there  is  a  large  class  in  that  country  to  which  the  above 
observations  may  be  justly  applied. 

According  to  Kay,  more  than  half  the  poor  in  Eng- 


380  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

land  and  Wales  cannot  read  and  write,  while  the  ma- 
jority of  the  remainder  know  nothing  of  science,  his- 
tory, geography,  music,  or  drawing,  and  very  little  of 
the  Scripture  history.  In  the  great  mercantile  and 
manufacturing  towns,  it  is  true  that  poor  men,  if  they 
defer  their  marriage,  and  have  no  extraordinary  encum- 
brances, may  improve  their  condition ;  but  scarcely 
any  facilities  are  offered  for  their  acquiring  the  intelli- 
gence necessary  for  the  control  of  passion.  The  schools 
in  the  towns  are  wretchedly  arranged  and  managed. 
Many  are  nothing  more  than  "dame  schools,''  con- 
ducted often  in  cellars  or  garrets,  by  poor  women,  who 
know  how  to  read,  but  who  often  know  nothing  else. 
The  schools  for  the  peasants  are  still  fewer  in  number, 
and  inefficient  in  character ;  and  hence  the  result,  that 
the  English  peasantry  are  more  ignorant  and  de- 
moralized, less  capable  of  helping  themselves,  and 
more  pauperized,  than  those  of  any  other  country  in 
Europe,  if  we  except  Russia,  Turkey,  South  Italy,  and 
some  parts  of  the  Austrian  Empire.  A  writer  in  a 
recent  number  of  "Household  Words,"  makes  some 
remarkable  statements  in  regard  to  the  ignorance  of 
the  English  masses : —  * 

"  Wherever  we  turn,  ignorance,  not  always  allied  to  poverty, 
stares  us  in  the  face.  If  we  look  in  the  Gazette,  at  the  list  of 
partnerships  dissolved,  not  a  month  passes  but  some  unhappy 
man,  rolling  perhaps  in  wealth,  but  wallowing  in  ignorance,  is  put 
to  the  experimentum  crucis  of  *  his  mark/  The  number  of  petty 


OF   ENGLAND.  381 

jurors — in  rural  districts  especially — who  can  only  sign  with  a 
cross  is  enormous.  It  is  not  unusual  to  see  parish  documents  of 
great  local  importance  defaced  with  the  same  humiliating  symbol 
by  persons  whose  office  shows  them  to  be  not  only  *  men  of  mark/ 
but  men  of  substance.  We  have  printed  already  specimens  of 
the  partial  ignorance  which  passes  under  the  ken  of  the  post- 
office  authorities,  and  we  may  venture  to  assert,  that  such  speci- 
mens of  penmanship  and  orthography  are  not  to  be  matched  in 
any  other  country  in  Europe.  A  housewife  in  humble  life  need 
only  turn  to  the  file  of  her  tradesmen's  bills  to  discover  hiero- 
glyphics which  render  them  so  many  arithmetical  puzzles.  In 
short,  the  practical  evidences  of  the  low  ebb  to  which  the  plainest 
rudiments  of  education  in  this  country  has  fallen,  are  too  com- 
mon to  bear  repetition.  We  cannot  pass  through  the  streets,  we 
cannot  enter  a  place  of  public  assembly,  or  ramble  in  the  fields, 
without  the  gloomy  shadow  of  Ignorance  sweeping  over  us.  The 
rural  population  is  indeed  in  a  worse  plight  than  the  other 
classes.  We  quote — with  the  attestation  of  our  own  experience — 
the  following  passage  from  one  of  a  series  of  articles  which  have 
recently  appeared  in  a  morning  newspaper :  '  Taking  the  adult 
class  of  agricultural  labourers,  it  is  almost  impossible  to  exag- 
gerate the  ignorance  in  which  they  live  and  move  and  have  their 
being.  As  they  work  in  the  fields,  the  external  world  has  some 
hold  upon  them  through  the  medium  of  their  senses ;  but  to  all 
the  higher  exercises  of  intellect  they  are  perfect  strangers.  You 
cannot  address  one  of  them  without  being  at  once  painfully 
struck  with  the  intellectual  darkness  which  enshrouds  him. 
There  is  in  general  neither  speculation  in  his  eyes  nor  intelli- 
gence in  his  countenance.  The  whole  expression  is  more  that  of 
an  animal  than  of  a  man.  He  is  wanting,  too,  in  the  erect  and 
independent  bearing  of  a  man.  When  you  accost  him,  if  he  is 
not  insolent- — which  he  seldom  is — he  is  timid  and  shrinking,  his 
whole  manner  showing  that  he  feels  himself  at  a  distance  from 
you  greater  than  should  separate  any  two  classes  of  men.  He  is 
often  doubtful  when  you  address,  and  suspicious  when  you  ques- 
tion him ;  he  is  seemingly  oppressed  with  the  interview  while  it 
lasts,  and  obviously  relieved  when  it  is  over.  These  are  the  traits 


382  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

•which  I  can  affirm  them  to  possess  as  a  class,  after  having  come 
in  contact  with  many  hundreds  of  farm  labourers.  They  belong 
to  a  generation  for  whose  intellectual  culture  little  or  nothing  was 
done.  As  a  class,  they  have  no  amusements  beyond  the  indul- 
gence of  sense.  In  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  recreation  is  associated 
in  their  minds  with  nothing  higher  than  sensuality.  I  have  fre- 
quently asked  clergymen  and  others,  if  they  often  find  the  adult 
peasant  reading  for  his  own  or  others'  amusement?  The  inva- 
riable answer  is,  that  such  a  sight  is  seldom  or  never  witnessed. 
In  the  first  place,  the  great  bulk  of  them  cannot  read.  In  the  next, 
a  large  proportion,  of  those  who  can,  do  so  with  too  much  diffi- 
culty to  admit  of  the  exercise  being  an  amusement  to  them. 
Again,  few  of  those  who  can  read  with  comparative  ease,  have 
the  taste  for  doing  so.  It  is  but  justice  to  them  to  say  that  many 
of  those  who  cannot  read  have  bitterly  regretted,  in  my  hearing, 
their  inability  to  do  so.  I  shall  never  forget  the  tone  in  which  an 
old  woman  in  Cornwall  intimated  to  me  what  a  comfort  it  would 
now  be  to  her  could  she  only  read  her  Bible  in  her  lonely 
hours/  " 

From  statistics  given  by  Kay,  it  is  apparent  that  the 
proportional  amount  of  crime  to  population,  calculated 
in  two  years,  1841  and  1847,  was  greater  in  almost  all 
the  agricultural  counties  of  England  than  it  was  in  the 
mining  and  manufacturing  districts.  The  peasants  of 
England  must  be  subjected  to  a  singularly  demoralizing 
system  to  produce  so  terrible  a  result.  The  extreme 
poverty  of  the  agricultural  labourers  is  the  great  stimu- 
lant to  crime  of  all  kinds ;  but  the  darkness  of  ignorance 
is  also  a  powerful  agent.  Poverty  renders  the  peasants 
desperate,  and  they  are  too  ignorant  to  see  the  conse- 
quences of  crime. 

In  a  former  part  of  this  work,  it  was  mentioned  that 


OF  ENGLAND.  383 

the  miserable  cottages  in  which  the  peasants  are  com- 
pelled to  reside  have  considerable  influence  in  demo- 
ralizing them.  This  deserves  to  be  fully  illustrated. 
The  majority  of  the  cottages  have  but  two  small  rooms ; 
in  one  of  which  husband  and  wife,  young  men  and 
young  women,  boys  and  girls,  and,  very  often,  a  mar- 
ried son  and  his  wife  all  sleep  together.  Kay  says — 

"The  accounts  we  receive  from  all  parts  of  the  country  show 
that  these  miserable  cottages  are  crowded  to  an  extreme,  and  that 
the  crowding  is  progressively  increasing.  People  of  both  sexes, 
and  of  all  ages,  both  married  and  unmarried — parents,  brothers, 
sisters,  and  strangers — sleep  in  the  same  rooms  and  often  in  the 
Bame  beds.  One  gentlemen  tells  us  of  six  people  of  different  sexes 
and  ages,  two  of  whom  were  man  and  wife,  sleeping  in  the  same 
bed,  three  with  their  heads  at  the  top  and  three  with  their  heads 
at  the  foot  of  the  bed.  Another  tells  us  of  adult  uncles  and  nieces 
Bleeping  in  the  same  room  close  to  each  other ;  another,  of  the 
uncles  and  nieces  sleeping  in  the  same  bed  together  ;  another,  of 
adult  brothers  and  sisters  sleeping  in  the  same  room  with  a 
brother  and  his  wife  just  married ;  many  tell  us  of  adult  brothers 
and  sisters  sleeping  in  the  same  beds  ;  another  tells  us  of  rooms 
BO  filled  with  beds  that  there  is  no  space  between  them,  but  thai 
brothers,  sisters,  and  parents  crawl  over  each  other  half  naked  in 
order  to  get  to  their  respective  resting-places ;  another,  of  its  being 
common  for  men  and  women,  not  being  relations,  to  undress  to- 
gether in  the  same  room,  without  any  feeling  of  its  being  indelicate ; 
another,  of  cases  where  women  have  been  delivered  in  bedrooms 
crowded  with  men,  young  women,  and  children ;  and  others  men- 
tion facts  of  these  crowded  bedrooms  much  too  horrible  to  be 
alluded  to.  Nor  are  these  solitary  instances,  but  similar  reports 
are  given  by  gentlemen  writing  in  ALL  parts  of  the  country." 

The  young  peasants  from  their  earliest  years  are 
accustomed  to  sleep  in  the  same  bedrooms  with  people 


384  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

of  both  sexes ;  and  they  lose  all  sense  of  the  indecency 
of  such  a  life,  taking  wives  before  they  are  twenty  years 
of  age  to  sleep  in  the  same  room  with  their  parents. 
The  policy  now  pursued  by  the  aristocratic  landlords, 
of  clearing  their  estates,  tends  to  crowd  the  cottages 
which  are  allowed  to  remain,  and  thus  the  demoraliza- 
tion of  the  peasantry  is  stimulated.  Adultery  is  the 
very  mildest  form  of  the  vast  amount  of  crime  which  it 
is  engendering.  Magistrates,  clergymen,  surgeons,  and 
parish-officers  bear  witness  that  cases  of  incest  are  in- 
creasing in  all  parts  of  the  country.  An  eminent 
writer  represents  the  consequences  of  the  state  of  the 
peasant's  cottages  in  England  and  Wales  in  the  follow- 
ing startling,  but  unexaggerated  terms  : — 

"  A  man  and  woman  intermarry,  and  take  a  cottage.  In  eight 
cases  out  of  ten  it  is  a  cottage  with  but  two  rooms.  For  a  time, 
so  far  as  room  at  least  is  concerned,  this  answers  their  purpose ; 
but  they  take  it,  not  because  it  is  at  the  time  sufficiently  spacious 
for  them,  but  because  they  could  not  procure  a  more  roomy  dwell- 
ing, even  if  they  desired  it.  In  this  they  pass  with  tolerable  com- 
fort, considering  their  notions  of  what  comfort  is,  the  first  period 
of  married  life ;  but,  by-and-by  they  have  children,  and  the  family 
increases,  until,  in  the  course  of  a  few  years,  they  number,  per- 
haps, from  eight  to  ten  individuals.  But  in  all  this  time  there 
has  been  no  increase  to  their  household  accommodation.  As  at 
first,  so  to  the  very  last,  there  is  but  the  ONE  SLEEPING-ROOM.  As 
the  family  increases,  additional  beds  are  crammed  into  this  apart- 
ment, until  at  last  it  is  so  filled  with  them,  that  there  is  scarcely 
room  left  to  move  between  them.  /  have  known  instances  in  which 
they  had  to  crawl  over  each  other  to  get  to  their  beds.  So  long  as 
the  children  are  very  young,  the  only  evil  connected  with  this  is 
the  physical  one  arising  from  crowding  so  many  people  together 


OF  ENGLAND.  385 

into  what  is  generally  a  dingy,  frequently  a  damp,  and  invariably 
an  ill- ventilated  apartment.  But  years  steal  on,  and  the  family 
continues  thus  bedded  together.  Some  of  its  members  may  yet 
be  in  their  infancy,  but  others  of  both  sexes  have  crossed  the  line 
of  puberty.  But  there  they  are,  still  together  in  the  same  room — 
the  father  and  mother,  the.  sons  and  the  daughters — young  men, 
young  women,  and  children.  Cousins,  too,  of  both  sexes,  are 
often  thrown  together  into  the  same  room,  and  not  unfrequently  into 
tlie  same  bed.  I  have  also  known  of  cases  in  which  uncles  slept 
in  the  same  room  with  their  grown-up  nieces,  and  newly-married 
couples  occupied  the  same  chamber  with  those  long  married,  and 
with  others  marriageable  but  unmarried.  A  case  also  came  to 
my  notice,  already  alluded  to  in  connection  with  another  branch 
of  the  subject,  in  which  two  sisters,  who  were  married  on  the 
same  day,  occupied  adjoining  rooms  in  the  same  hut,  with  nothing 
but  a  thin  board  partition,  which  did  not  reach  the  ceiling,  be- 
tween the  two  rooms,  and  a  door  in  the  partition  which  only 
partly  filled  up  the  doorway.  For  years  back,  in  these  same  two 
rooms,  have  slept  twelve  people  of  both  sexes  and  all  ages. 
Sometimes,  when  there  is  but  one  room,  a  praiseworthy  effort  is 
made  for  the  conservation  of  decency.  But  the  hanging  up  of  a 
piece  of  tattered  cloth  between  the  beds,  which  is  generally  all 
that  is  done  in  this  respect,  and  even  that  but  seldom,  is  but  a 
poor  set-off  to  the  fact,  that  a  family,  which,  in  common  decency, 
should,  as  regards  sleeping  accommodations,  be  separated  at  least 
into  three  divisions,  occupy,  night  after  night,  but  one  and  the 
same  chamber.  This  is  a  frightful  position  for  them  to  be  in 
when  an  infectious  or  epidemic  disease  enters  their  abode.  But 
this,  important  though  it  be,  is  the  least  important  consideration 
connected  with  their  circumstances.  That  which  is  most  so,  is 
the  effect  produced  by  them  upon  their  habits  and  morals.  In : 
the  illicit  intercourse  to  which  such  a  position  frequently  gives 
rise,  it  is  not  always  that  the  tie  of  blood  is  respected.  Certain  it 
is,  that  when  the  relationship  is  even  but  one  degree  removed 
from  that  of  brother  and  sister,  that  tie  is  frequently  overlooked. 
And  when  the  circumstances  do  not  lead  to  such  horrible  conse- 
quences, the  mind,  particularly  of  the  female,  is  wholly  divested 


386  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

of  that  sense  of  delicacy  and  shame,  -which,  so  long  as  they  are 
preserved,  are  the  chief  safeguards  of  her  chastity.  She  therefore 
falls  an  early  and  an  easy  prey  to  the  temptations  which  beset 
her  beyond  the  immediate  circle  of  her  family.  People  in  the 
other  spheres  of  life  are  but  little  aware  of  the  extent  to  which 
this  precocious  demoralization  of  the  female  among  the  lower 
orders  in  the  country  has  proceeded.  But  how  could  it  be  other- 
wise ?  The  philanthropist  may  exert  himself  in  their  behalf,  the 
moralist  may  inculcate  even  the  worldly  advantages  of  a  better 
course  of  life,  and  the  minister  of  religion  may  warn  them  of  the 
eternal  penalties  which  they  are  incurring ;  but  there  is  an  in- 
structor constantly  at  work,  more  potent  than  them  all — an  in- 
structor in  mischief,  of  which  they  must  get  rid  ere  they  can 
make  any  real  progress  in  their  laudable  efforts — and  that  is,  the 
single  bedchamber  in  the  two-roomed  cottage." 

But  such  cottages  will  continue  to  be  the  dwellings 
of  the  peasantry  until  the  system  of  lord  and  serf  is 
abolished,  until  they  can  obtain  ground  of  their  own, 
and  have  no  fear  of  eviction  at  a  moment's  notice.  It 
has  often  been  a  matter  of  wonder  that  there  is  less  dis- 
content and  murmuring  among  the  miserable  peasants 
than  among  the  workmen  in  the  manufacturing  towns. 
The  reason  lies  upon  the  surface.  The  workmen  in  the 
factories  are  generally  more  intelligent  than  the  agri- 
cultural labourers,  and  have  a  keen  feeling  of  their 
degradation.  It  requires  a  certain  degree  of  elevation 
to  render  a  man  discontented.  The  wallowing  pig  is 
satisfied. 

We  need  not  be  surprised  to  find  that  where  so  much 
misery  prevails  crime  is  frightfully  frequent.  The 
« Times' '  of  the  30th  of  November,  1849,  shows  tho 


OF  ENGLAND.  887 

terrible  increase  of  crime  in  the  last  few  years  in  Dor- 
setshire. The  "  Times''  says — 

"  We  yesterday  published,  in  a  very  short  compass,  some  grave 
particulars  of  the  unfortunate  county  of  Dorset.  It  is  not  simply 
the  old  story  of  wages  inadequate  for  life,  hovels  unfit  for  habita- 
tion, and  misery  and  sin  alternately  claiming  our  pity  and  our 
disgust.  This  state  of  things  is  so  normal,  and  we  really  believe 
so  immemorial  in  that  notorious  county,  that  we  should  rather 
deaden  than  excite  the  anxiety  of  the  public  by  a  thrice- told  tale. 
What  compels  our  attention  just  now  is  a  sudden,  rapid,  and,  we 
fear,  a  forced  aggravation  of  these  evils,  measured  by  the  infallible 
test  of  crime.  Dorsetshire  is  fast  sinking  into  a  slough  of  wretch- 
edness, which  threatens  the  peace  and  morality  of  the  kingdom  at 
large.  The  total  number  of  convictions,  which 

"  In  1846  was  798,  and 

"  In  1847  was  821,  mounted  up, 

"In  1848,  to  950; 

"  and  up  to  the  special  general  session,  last  Tuesday,  (Dec.  1849,) 
for  less  than  eleven  months  of  the  present  year,  to  the  astonish- 
ing number  of  1193,  being  at  the  rate  of  1300  for  the  whole  year! 
Unless  something  is  done  to  stop  this  flood  of  crime,  or  the  tide 
happily  turns  of  itself,  the  county  will  have  more  than  doubled  its 
convictions  within  four  years !  Nor  is  it  possible  for  us  to  take 
refuge  in  the  thought  that  the  increase  is  in  petty  offences.  In  no 
respect  is  it  a  light  thing  for  a  poor  creature  to  be  sent  to  jail, 
whatever  be  the  offence.  He  has  broken  the  laws  of  his  country, 
and  forfeited  his  character.  His  name  and  his  morals  are  alike 
tainted  with  the  jail.  He  is  degraded  and  corrupted.  If  his 
spirit  be  not  crushed,  it  is  exasperated  into  perpetual  hostility  to 
wealth  and  power. 

"  It  is,  then,  no  light  affair  that  a  rural  county,  the  abode  of  an 
ancient  and  respectable  aristocracy,  somewhat  removed  from  the 
popular  influences  of  the  age,  with  a  population  of  175,043  by  the 
late  census,  should  produce  in  four  years  near  4000  convictions, 


388  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

being  at  the  rate  of  one  conviction  in  that  period  for  every  sixty 
persons,  or  every  twelve  householders." 

We  might  express  our  doubts  of  the  real  respecta- 
bility of  the  ancient  aristocracy  of  Dorsetshire.  They 
do  not  injure  society  in  a  way  of  which  the  laws  take 
notice;  but  had  they  nothing  to  do  with  the  making 
of  the  4000  criminals  ?  In  1834,  an  English  writer 
estimated  that  about  120,000  of  the  people  were  al- 
ways in  jail.  At  the  present  time  the  number  is  still 
greater. 

The  humane  and  able  author  of  "  Letters  on  Rural 
Districts,"  published  in  the  "Morning  Chronicle"  of 
London,  thus  speaks  of  the  frightful  immorality  among 
the  agricultural  population  of  Norfolk  and  Suffolk  coun- 
ties : — 

"One  species  of  immorality,  which  is  peculiarly  prevalent  in 
Norfolk  and  Suffolk,  is  that  of  bastardy.  With  the  exception  of 
Hereford  and  Cumberland,  there  are  no  counties  in  which  the  per- 
centage of  bastardy  is  so  high  as  it  is  in  Norfolk — being  there 
53.1  per  cent,  above  the  average  of  England  and  Wales ;  in  Suf- 
folk it  is  27  per  cent,  above,  and  in  Essex  19.1  per  cent,  below  the 
average.  In  the  two  first-named  counties,  and  even  in  the  latter 
one,  though  not  to  the  same  extent,  there  appears  to  be  a  perfect 
want  of  decency  among  the  people.  '  The  immorality  of  the  young 
women/  said  the  rector  of  one  parish  to  me,  *  is  literally  horrible, 
and  I  regret  to  say  it  is  on  the  increase  in  a  most  extraordinary 
degree.  When  I  first  came  to  the  town,  the  mother  of  a  bastard 
child  used  to  be  ashamed  to  show  herself.  The  case  is  now 
quite  altered ;  no  person  seems  to  think  any  thing  at  all  of  it. 
When  I  first  came  to  the  town,  there  was  no  such  thing  as  a 
common  prostitute  in  it ;  now  there  is  an  enormous  number  of 


OF  ENGLAND.  389 

them.  When  I  am  called  upon  to  see  a  woman  confined  with  an 
illegitimate  child,  I  endeavour  to  impress  upon  her  the  enormity 
of  the  offence ;  and  there  are  no  cases  in  which  I  receive  more 
insult  from  those  I  visit  than  from  such  persons.  They  generally 
say  they'll  get  on  as  well,  after  all  that's  said  about  it ;  and  if  they 
never  do  any  thing  worse  than  that,  they  shall  get  to  heaven  as 
well  as  other  people/  Another  clergyman  stated  to  me,  that  he 
never  recollected  an  instance  of  his  having  married  a  woman  who 
was  not  either  pregnant  at  the  time  of  her  marriage,  or  had  had 
one  or  more  children  before  her  marriage.  Again,  a  third  clergy- 
man told  me,  that  he  went  to  baptize  the  illegitimate  child  of  one 
woman,  who  was  thirty-five  years  of  age,  and  it  was  absolutely 
impossible  for  him  to  convince  her  that  what  she  had  done  was 
wrong.  '  There  appears/  said  he,  l  to  be  among  the  lower  orders 
a  perfect  deadness  of  all  moral  feeling  upon  this  subject.'  Many 
of  the  cases  of  this  kind,  which  have  come  under  my  knowledge, 
evince  such  horrible  depravity,  that  I  dare  not  attempt  to  lay  them 
before  the  reader.  Speaking  to  the  wife  of  a  respectable  labourer 
on  the  subject,  who  had  seven  children,  one  of  whom  was  then 
confined  with  an  illegitimate  child,  she  excused  her  daughter's 
conduct  by  saying,  *  What  was  the  poor  girl  to  do !  The  chaps  say 
that  they  won't  marry  'em  first,  and  then  the  girls  give  way.  I 
did  the  same  myself  with  my  husband.'  There  was  one  case  in 
Cossey,  in  Norfolk,  in  which  the  woman  told  me,  without  a  blush 
crimsoning  her  cheek,  that  her  daughter  and  self  had  each  had 
a  child  by  a  sweep,  who  lodged  with  them,  and  who  promised 
to  marry  the  daughter.  The  cottage  in  which  these  persons  slept 
consisted  of  but  one  room,  and  there  were  two  other  lodgers  who 
occupied  beds  in  the  same  room  ;  in  one  of  which  '  a  young  wo- 
man occasionally  slept  with  the  young  man  she  was  keeping  com- 
pany with/  The  other  lodger  was  an  old  woman  of  seventy-four 
years  of  age.  To  such  an  extent  is  prostitution  carried  on  in 
Norwich,  that  out  of  the  656  licensed  public-houses  and  beer-shops 
in  the  city,  there  are  not  less  than  220,  which  are  known  to  the 
police  as  common  brothels.  And,  although  the  authorities  have 
the  power  of  withholding  the  licenses,  nothing  is  done  to  put  a 
stop  to  the  frightful  vice.'; 


390  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

A  want  of  chastity  is  universal  among  the  female 
peasants  of  Wales,  arising  chiefly  from  the  herding  of 
many  persons  in  the  small  cottages.  In  the*  vicinity  of 
the  mines,  the  average  of  inhabitants  to  a  house  is  said 
to  be  nearly  twelve.  The  Rev.  John  Griffith,  vicar  of 
Aberdare,  says — 

"  Nothing  can  be  lower,  I  would  say  more  degrading,  than  the 
character  in  which  the  women  stand  relative  to  the  men.  The 
men  and  the  women,  married  as  well  as  single,  live  in  the  same 
house,  and  sleep  in  the  same  room.  The  men  do  not  hesitate  to 
wash  themselves  naked  before  the  women  ;  on  the  other  hand,  the 
women  do  not  hesitate  to  change  their  under  garments  before  the 
men.  Promiscuous  intercourse  is  most  common,  is  thought  of  as 
nothing,  and  the  women  do  not  lose  caste  by  it." 

The  Welsh  are  peculiarly  exempt  from  the  guilt  of 
great  crimes.  But  petty  thefts,  lying,  cozening,  every 
species  of  chicanery  and  drunkenness  are  common 
among  the  agricultural  population,  and  are  regarded  as 
matters  of  course. 

Infanticide  is  practised  to  a  terrible  extent  in  Eng- 
land and  Wales.  In  most  of  the  large  provincial  towns, 
"burial  clubs "  exist.  A  small  sum  is  paid  every  year  by 
the  parent,  and  this  entitles  him  to  receive  from  £3  to  £5 
from  the  club  on  the  death  of  the  child.  Many  persons 
enter  their  children  in  several  clubs ;  and,  as  the  burial 
of  the  child  does  not  necessarily  cost  more  than  <£!,  or 
at  the  most  <£!  10s.,  the  parent  realizes  a  considerable 
sum  after  all  the  expenses  are  paid.  For  the  sake  of 
this  money,  it  has  become  common  to  cause  the  death 


OF   ENGLAND.  891 

of  the  children,  either  by  starvation,  ill-usage,  or  poison. 
No  more  horrible  symptom  of  moral  degradation  could 
be  conceived. 

"  Mr.  Chadwick  says,*  '  officers  of  these  burial  societies,  reliev- 
ing officers,  and  others,  whose  administrative  duties  put  them  in 
communication  with  the  lowest  classes  in  these  districts,  (the 
manufacturing  districts,)  express  their  moral  conviction  of  the 
operation  of  such  bounties  to  produce  instances  of  the  visible  neg- 
lect of  children  of  which  they  are  witnesses.  They  often  say— - 
You  are  not  treating  that  child  properly,  it  will  not  live ;  is  it  in 
the  club?  And  the  answer  corresponds  with  the  impression  pro- 
duced by  the  sight. 

"  '  Mr.  Gardiner,  the  clerk  of  the  Manchester  union,  while 
registering  the  causes  of  death,  deemed  the  cause  assigned  by  a 
labouring  man  for  the  death  of  a  child  unsatisfactory,  and  staying 
to  inquire,  found  that  popular  rumour  assigned  the  death  to  wil- 
ful starvation.  The  child  (according  to  a  statement  of  the  case) 
had  been  entered  in  at  least  ten  burial  clubs ;  and  its  parents  had 
had  six  other  children,  who  only  lived  from  nine  to  eighteen  months 
respectively.  They  had  received  from  several  burial  clubs  twenty 
pounds  for  one  of  these  children,  and  they  expected  at  least  as 
much  on  account  of  this  child.  An  inquest  was  held  at  Mr.  Gar- 
diner's instance,  when  several  persons,  who  had  known  the  de- 
ceased, stated  that  she  was  a  fine  fat  child  shortly  after  her  birth, 
but  that  she  soon  became  quite  thin,  was  badly  clothed,  and 
seemed  as  if  she  did  not  get  a  sufficiency  of  food.  .  .  The  jury, 
having  expressed  it  as  their  opinion  that  the  evidence  of  the 
parents  was  made  up  for  the  occasion  and  entitled  to  no  credit, 
returned  the  following  verdict : — Died  through  want  of  nourish- 
ment, but  whether  occasioned  by  a  deficiency  of  food,  or  by  dis- 
ease of  the  liver  and  spine  brought  on  by  improper  food  and  drink 
or  otherwise,  does  not  appear. 

"  '  Two  similar  cases  came  before  Mr.  Coppock,  the  clerk  and 

*  Sanitary  Inquiry  Report,  1843,  p.  64. 


392  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

superintendent-registrar  of  the  Stockport  union,  in  both  of  which 
he  prosecuted  the  parties  for  murder.  In  one  case,  where  three 
children  had  been  poisoned  with  arsenic,  the  father  was  tried  with 
the  mother  and  convicted  at  Chester,  and  sentenced  to  be  trans- 
ported for  life,  but  the  mother  was  acquitted.  In  the  other  case, 
where  the  judge  summed  up  for  a  conviction,  the  accused,  the 
father,  was,  to  the  astonishment  of  every  one,  acquitted.  In  this 
case  the  body  was  exhumed  after  interment,  and  arsenic  was 
detected  in  the  stomach.  In  consequence  of  the  suspicion  raised 
upon  the  death  on  which  the  accusation  was  made  in  the  first 
case,  the  bodies  of  two  other  children  were  taken  up  and  exa- 
mined, when  arsenic  was  found  in  their  stomachs.  In  all  these  cases 
payments  on  the  deaths  of  the  children  were  insured  from  the 
burial  clubs;  the  cost  of  the  coffin  and  burial  dues  would  not  be 
more  than  about  one  pound,  and  the  allowance  from  the  club  is 
three  pounds. 

"  *  It  is  remarked  on  these  dreadful  cases  by  the  superinten- 
dent-registrar, that  the  children  who  were  boys,  and  therefore  likely 
to  be  useful  to  the  parents ,  were  not  poisoned;  the  female  children 
were  the  victims.  It  was  the  clear  opinion  of  the  medical  officers 
that  infanticides  have  been  committed  in  Stockport  to  obtain  the 
burial  money.' " 

Such  parents  must  be  placed  upon  a  level  with  the 
swine  that  devour  their  farrow.  We  are  led  to  doubt 
whether  they  could  sink  much  lower  in  the  animal 
scale ;  poverty  and  ignorance  seem  to  have  thoroughly 
quenched  the  spark  of  humanity.  The  author  of  "  Let- 
ters on  Labour,  and  the  Poor  in  the  Rural  Districts/' 
writing  of  the  burial  clubs  in  the  eastern  counties,  says: 

"  The  suspicion  that  a  great  deal  of  *  foul  play'  exists  with  re- 
spect to  these  clubs  is  supported,  not  only  by  a  comparison  of  the 
different  rates  of  mortality,  but  it  is  considerably  strengthened 
by  the  facts  proved  upon  the  trial  of  Mary  May.  The  Rev.  Mr. 
Wilkins,  the  vicar  of  "VVickes,  who  was  mainly  instrumental  in 


OF  ENGLAND.  393 

bringing  the  case  before  a  court  of  justice,  stated  to  me  that,  from 
the  time  of  Mary  May  coming  to  live  in  his  parish,  he  was  deter- 
mined to  keep  a  very  strict  watch  upon  her  movements,  as  he  had 
heard  that  fourteen  of  her  children  had  previously  died  suddenly. 

"  A  few  weeks  after  her  arrival  in  his  parish,  she  called  upon 
him  to  request  him  to  bury  one  of  her  children.  Upon  his  asking 
her  which  of  the  children  it  was,  she  told  him  that  it  was  Eliza, 
a  fine  healthy-looking  child  of  ten  years  old.  Upon  his  express- 
ing some  surprise  that  she  should  have  died  so  suddenly,  she  said, 
'Oh,  sir,  she  went  off  like  a  snuff;  all  my  other  children  did  BO 
too.'  A  short  time  elapsed,  and  she  again  waited  upon  the  vicar 
to  request  him  to  bury  her  brother  as  soon  as  he  could.  His  sus- 
picions were  aroused,  and  he  endeavoured  to  postpone  the  funeral 
for  a  few  days,  in  order  to  enable  him  to  make  some  inquiries. 
Not  succeeding  in  obtaining  any  information  which  would  war- 
rant further  delay  in  burying  the  corpse,  he  most  reluctantly 
proceeded  in  the  discharge  of  his  duty. 

"  About  a  week  after  the  funeral,  Mary  May  again  waited  upon 
him  to  request  him  to  sign  a  certificate  to  the  effect  that  her  bro- 
ther was  in  perfect  health  a  fortnight  before  he  died,  that  being 
the  time  at  which,  as  it  subsequently  appeared,  she  had  entered 
him  as  nominee  in  the  Harwich  Burial  Club.  Upon  inquiring  as 
to  the  reason  of  her  desiring  this  certificate,  she  told  him  that, 
unless  she  got  it,  she  could  not  get  the  money  for  him  from  the 
club.  This  at  once  supplied  the  vicar  with  what  appeared  to  be 
a  motive  for  'foul  play'  on  the  part  of  the  woman.  He  accord- 
ingly obtained  permission  to  have  the  body  of  her  brother  ex- 
humed ;  doses  of  arsenic  were  detected,  and  the  woman  was  ar- 
rested. With  the  evidence  given  upon  the  trial  the  reader  is,  no 
doubt,  perfectly  conversant,  and  it  will  be  unnecessary  for  me  to 
detail  it  She  was  convicted.  Previously  to  her  execution  she 
refused  to  make  any  confession,  but  said,  '  If  I  were  to  tell  all 
I  know,  it  would  give  the  hangman  work  for  the  next  twelve 
months/  Undue  weight  ought  not  to  be  attached  to  the  declara- 
tion of  such  a  woman  as  Mary  May ;  but,  coupled  with  the  dis- 
closures that  took  place  upon  the  trial  with  respect  to  some  of  her 
neighbours  and  accomplices,  and  with  the  extraordinary  rate 

26 


394  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

of  mortality  among  the  clubs,  it  certainly  does  appear  that  the 
general  opinion  with  respect  to  the  mischievous  effects  of  these 
societies  is  not  altogether  without  foundation. 

"  Although  there  are  not  in  Essex,  at  present,  any  burial  clubs 
in  which  children  are  admitted  under  fourteen  years  of  age  as 
members  or  nominees,  still,  as  illustrating  the  evils  arising  from 
these  clubs,  I  may  state  that  many  persons  who  are  fully  conver- 
sant with  the  working  of  such  institutions  have  stated  that  they 
have  frequently  been  shocked  by  hearing  women  of  the  lower 
classes,  when  speaking  of  a  neighbour's  child,  make  use  of  such 
expressions  as,  'Oh,  depend  upon  it,  the  child '11  not  live;  it's  in 
the  burial  club.'  When  speaking  to  the  parents  of  a  child  who 
may  be  unwell,  it  is  not  unfrequently  that  they  say,  '  You  should 
do  so  and  so,'  or,  *  You  should  not  do  so  and  so ;'  *  You  should 
not  treat  it  in  that  way;  is  it  in  the  burial  club?  Instances  of  the 
most  culpable  neglect,  if  not  of  graver  offences,  are  continually 
occurring  in  districts  where  clubs  exist  in  which  children  are 
admitted.  A  collector  of  one  of  the  most  extensive  burial  socie- 
ties gave  it  as  his  opinion,  founded  upon  his  experience,  that  it 
had  become  a  constant  practice  to  neglect  the  children  for  the 
sake  of  the  allowance  from  the  clubs ;  and  he  supported  his 
opinion  by  several  cases  which  had  come  under  his  own  observa- 
tion." 

A  vast  number  of  other  facts,  of  equally  shocking 
character,  have  been  ascertained.  The  Rev.  J.  Clay, 
chaplain  of  the  Preston  House  of  Correction,  in  a 
sanitary  report,  makes  some  statements  of  a  nature  to 
startle : — 

"  It  appears,  on  the  unimpeachable  authority  of  a  burial-club 
official,  that  *  hired  nurses  speculate  on  the  lives  of  infants  commit- 
ted to  their  care,  by  entering  them  in  burial  clubs;'  that  '  two  young 
women  proposed  to  enter  a  child  into  his  club,  and  to  pay  the 
weekly  premium  alternately.  Upon  inquiring  as  to  the  relation, 
subsisting  between  the  two  young  women  and  the  child,  he  learned 
that  the  infant  was  placed  at  nurse  with  the  mother  of  one  of 


OF   ENGLAND.  395 

these  young  women/  The  wife  of  a  clergymen  told  me  that, 
visiting  a  poor  district  just  when  a  child's  death  had  occurred, 
instead  of  hearing  from  the  neighbours  the  language  of  sympathy 
for  the  bereaved  parent,  she  was  shocked  by  such  observations 
as — 'Ah !  it's  a  fine  thing  for  the  mother,  the  child's  in  two  clubs !' 
"As  regards  one  town,  I  possess  some  evidence  of  the  amount 
of  burial-club  membership  and  of  infant  mortality,  which  I  beg 
to  lay  before  you.  The  reports  of  this  town  refer  to  1846,  when 
the  population  of  the  town  amounted  to  about  61,000.  I  do  not 
name  the  town,  because,  as  no  actual  burial-club  murders  are 
known  to  have  been  committed  in  it,  and  as  such  clubs  are  not 
more  patronized  there  than  in  other  places,  it  is,  perhaps,  not 
fair  to  hold  it  up  to  particular  animadversion ;  indeed,  as  to  its 
general  character,  this  very  town  need  not  fear  comparison  with 
any  other.  Now  this  place,  with  its  sixty-one  thousand  people 
of  all  classes  and  ages,  maintains  at  least  eleven  burial  clubs,  the 
members  of  which  amount  in  the  aggregate  to  nearly  fifty-two 
thousand ;  nor  are  these  all.  Sick  clubs,  remember,  act  as  burial 
clubs.  Of  these  there  are  twelve  or  fourteen  in  the  town,  muster- 
ing altogether,  probably,  two  thousand  members.  Here,  then, 
we  have  good  data  for  comparing  population  with  'death  lists;' 
but  it  will  be  necessary,  in  making  the  comparison,  to  deduct 
from  the  population  all  that  part  of  it  which  has  nothing  to  do 
with  these  clubs,  viz.  all  infants  under  two  months  old,  and  all 
persons  of  unsound  health,  (both  of  these  classes  being  excluded 
by  the  club  rules;)  all  those  also  of  the  working  classes,  whose 
sound  intelligence  and  feeling  lead  them  to  abhor  burial-club 
temptations ;  and  all  the  better  classes,  to  whom  five  or  twenty 
pounds  offer  no  consolation  for  the  death  of  a  child.  On  the 
hypothesis  that  these  deductions  will  amount  to  one-sixth  of  the 
entire  population,  it  results  that  the  death  lists  are  more  numerous 
by  far  than  the  entire  mass — old,  young,  and  infants — which  sup- 
port them ;  and,  according  to  the  statement  of  a  leading  death-list 
officer,  three-fourths  of  the  names  on  these  catalogues  of  the  doomed 
are  the  names  of  children.  Now,  if  this  be  the  truth — and  I  be- 
lieve it  is — hundreds,  if  not  thousands  of  children  must  be  entered 
each  into  four,  five,  or  even  twelve  clubs,  their  chances  of  life 


THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

diminishing,  of  course,  in  proportion  to  the  frequency  with  which 
they  are  entered.  Lest  you  should  imagine  that  such  excessive 
addiction  to  burial  clubs  is  only  to  be  found  in  one  place,  I 
furnish  you  with  a  report  for  1846,  of  a  single  club,  which  then 
boasted  thirty-four  thousand  one  hundred  members,  the  entire 
population  of  the  town  to  which  it  belongs  having  been,  in  1841,  little 
more  than  thirty-six  thousand!" 

The  authorities  from  whom  these  statements  are 
derived  are  of  the  highest  respectability;  they  bear 
witness  to  a  state  of  affairs  scarcely  to  be  conceived  by 
people  of  other  civilized  countries.  Hundreds  of  thou- 
sands of  human  beings  seem  to  be  driven  into  an  awful 
abyss  of  crime  and  misery  by  the  iron  rule  of  the  aris- 
tocracy— an  abyss  where  mothers  forget  maternal  feel- 
ings, where  marriage  vows  are  scoffed,  and  where  the 
momentary  gratification  of  brutal  passions  is  alone 
esteemed.  There,  indeed,  there  is  no  fear  of  God,  and 
heathenism  spreads  its  upas  shade  to  poison  and  destroy. 

The  only  amusement  which  the  English  poor  possess 
in  many  parts  of  the  country,  is  to  visit  taverns.  In 
the  towns  the  "gin-palaces"  and  the  beer-houses  are 
very  numerous;  and  whenever  the  poor  have  leisure, 
these  places  are  thronged  by  drunken  men  and  aban- 
doned women.  In  all  the  rural  districts  there  is  a 
frightful  amount  of  drunkenness.  British  legislation 
has  increased  the  number  of  these  hot-beds  of  crime 
and  pauperism. 

"  In  the  beginning  of  the  revolutionary  war  the  duties  on  malt 
were  augmented,  and  in  1825  the  duties  on  spirits  were  decreased. 


OF   ENGLAND.  397 

It  was  thus  that  whisky  was  substituted  for  ale  as  the  beverage 
of  the  Scotch,  and  that  gin  and  brandy  began  to  be  generally 
drunk  by  the  English  poor. 

"  The  consumption  of  spirits  immediately  increased  in  a  tre- 
mendous proportion.  From  4,132,263  gallons,  the  consumption 
in  1825,  it  rose  in  one  year  to  8,888,648  gallons ;  that  is,  the  con- 
sumption was  in  one  year  more  than  doubled  by  the  change  ;  and 
from  that  period,  with  the  exception  of  the  year  next  following, 
viz.  1827,  the  consumption  has  been  progressively  augmenting. 

"  Since  that  time  the  noted  beer-shop  act  has  been  passed.  By 
that  act,  any  one  was  enabled  to  obtain  a  license  to  enable  him 
to  sell  beer,  whether  the  person  desirous  of  doing  so  was  a  person 
of  respectable  character  or  not. 

"  But  this  was  the  least  of  the  evils  which  were  effected  by  that 
act.  A  clause,  which  was  still  more  injurious,  was  that  which 
prescribed  that  the  liquor  must  be  drunk  upon  the  premises  of  the 
beer-house,  i.  e.  either  in  the  beer-house  or  on  a  bench  just  outside 
the  door. 

"This  has  the  effect  in  many  cases,  where  the  poor  would 
otherwise  take  the  beer  home  to  their  own  cottages,  of  forcing  the 
young  men  who  wish  to  have  a  little  to  drink,  to  sit  down  and 
take  it  in  the  society  of  the  worst  people  of  the  neighbourhood, 
who  always,  as  a  matter  of  course,  spend  their  leisure  in  the 
tavern.  I  am  convinced  that  nothing  can  be  more  injurious  in 
its  effects  upon  the  poor  than  this  clause.  It  may  be  said  to 
force  the  honest  labourers  into  the  society  and  companionship  of 
the  most  depraved,  and  so  necessarily  to  demoralize  the  young 
and  honest  labourer. 

"  The  following  is  the  number  of  gallons  of  native  proof  spirits 
on  which  duty  was  paid  for  home  consumption  in  the  United 
Kingdom,  in  the  undermentioned  years : — 

Years.  Gallons. 

1843 18,841,890 

1844 20,608,525 

1845 23,122,588 

1846 24,106,697 

B 


398 


THE   WHITE   SLAVES 


"  To  the  above  must  be  added  the  number  of  gallons  of  foreign 
and  colonial  spirits  retained  for  home  consumption,  as  follows : — 


Tears. 

No.  of  Gallons  of  Foreign, 
&c.  Spirits. 

No.  of  Gallons  of  Home 
and  Foreign  Spirits  consumed 
in  the  United  Kingdom. 

1843 

1844 
1845 

1846 

3,161,957 
3,242,606 
3,549,889 
4,252,237 

22,026,289 
22,042,905 
26,672,477 
28,360,934 

"From  the  above  statistics  it  appears  that  the  consumption 
of  spirits  in  the  United  Kingdom  is  increasing  much  more  rapidly 
than  the  population ! 

"  The  number  of  licenses  granted  to  retailers  of  spirits  or  beer 
amounted,  in  1845,  to  237,345  ;  that  is,  there  was  to  be  found,  in 
1845,  a  retailer  of  beer  or  spirits  in  every  115  of  the  population  1 
Of  the  beer  licenses,  68,086  were  for  dwellings  rated  under  £20 
per  annum,  and  35,340  were  licenses  for  premises  rated  under 
£W  per  annum  1  This  shows  how  large  a  proportion  of  the  beer- 
ehops  are  situated  in  the  poorest  districts,  for  the  use  of  the 
poorest  classes.* 

There  is  a  section  of  London,  which  in  1847  had 
2000  inhabitants,  one  butcher's  shop,  two  bakers' 
shops,  and  seventeen  beer-houses.  The  total  cost  of 
the  spirits  and  beer  consumed  in  the  United  Kingdom 
was,  in  1843,  estimated  at  .£65,000,000,  a  sum  greater, 
by  several  millions,  than  the  whole  revenue  of  the 
government.  The  inimitable  Dickens  has  given  us  a 
vivid  sketch  of  a  London  gin-palace  and  its  attendants. 
He  says — 

"  The  extensive  scale  on  which  these  places  are  established, 
*Kay. 


OF   ENGLAND.  399 

and  the  ostentatious  manner  in  which  the  business  of  even  the 
smallest  among  them  is  divided  into  branches,  is  most  amusing. 
A  handsome  plate  of  ground  glass  in  one  door  directs  you  *  To 
the  Counting-house  /  another  to  the  *  Bottle  Department /  a  third 
to  the  '  Wholesale  Department /  a  fourth  to  the  *  Wine  Prome- 
nade;7 and  so  forth,  until  we  are  in  daily  expectation  of  meeting 
with  a  '  Brandy  Bell/  or  a  '  Whisky  Entrance/  Then  ingenuity 
is  exhausted  in  devising  attractive  titles  for  the  different  descrip- 
tions of  gin ;  and  the  dram-drinking  portion  of  the  community, 
as  they  gaze  upon  the  gigantic  black  and  white  announcements, 
which  are  only  to  be  equalled  in  size  by  the  figures  beneath  them, 
are  left  in  a  state  of  pleasing  hesitation  between  *  The  Cream  of 
the  Valley/  'The  Out  and  Out/  'The  No  Mistake/  l  The  Good 
for  Mixing/  '  The  real  Knock-me-down/  *  The  celebrated  Butter 
Gin/  l  The  regular  Flare-up/  and  a  dozen  other  equally  inviting 
and  wholesome  liqueurs.  Although  places  of  this  description 
are  to  be  met  with  in  every  second  street,  they  are  invariably 
numerous  and  splendid  in  precise  proportion  to  the  dirt  and 
poverty  of  the  surrounding  neighbourhood.  The  gin-shops  in 
and  near  Drury-lane,  Holborn,  St.  Giles's,  Covent-garden,  and 
Clare-market,  are  the  handsomest  in  London.  There  is  more  of 
filth  and  squalid  misery  near  those  great  thoroughfares  than  in 
any  part  of  this  mighty  city. 

"  We  will  endeavour  to  sketch  the  bar  of  a  large  gin-shop,  and 
its  ordinary  customers,  for  the  edification  of  such  of  our  readers 
as  may  not  have  had  opportunities  of  observing  such  scenes ;  and 
on  the  chance  of  finding  one  well  suited  to  our  purpose  we  will 
make  for  Drury-lane,  through  the  narrow  streets  and  dirty  courts 
which  divide  it  from  Oxford  street,  and  that  classical  spot  adjoin- 
ing the  brewery  at  the  bottom  of  Tottenham-court-road,  best 
known  to  the  initiated  as*the  'Kookery/ 

"  The  filthy  and  miserable  appearance  of  this  part  of  London 
can  hardly  be  imagined  by  those  (and  there  are  many  such)  who 
have  not  witnessed  it.  Wretched  houses  with  broken  windows 
patched  with  rags  and  paper,  every  room  let  out  to  a  different 
family,  and  in  many  instances  to  two  or  even  three ;  fruit  and 
'  sweet-stuff ;  manufacturers  in  the  cellars,  barbers  and  red-her- 


400  THE   WHITE    SLAVES 

ring  venders  in  the  front  parlours,  and  cobblers  in  the  back ;  a 
bird-fancier  in  the  first  floor,  three  families  on  the  second,  starva- 
tion in  the  attics,  Irishmen  in  the  passage;  a  'musician'  in  the 
front  kitchen,  and  a  charwoman  and  five  hungry  children  in  the 
back  one — filth  everywhere — a  gutter  before  the  houses  and  a 
drain  behind  them — clothes  drying  and  slops  emptying  from  the 
windows ;  girls  of  fourteen  or  fifteen  with  matted  hair,  walking 
about  barefooted,  and  in  white  great-coats,  almost  their  only 
covering ;  boys  of  all  ages,  in  coats  of  all  sizes  and  no  coats  at 
all ;  men  and  women,  in  every  variety  of  scanty  and  dirty  ap- 
parel, lounging,  scolding,  drinking,  smoking,  squabbling,  fight- 
ing, and  swearing. 

"  You  turn  the  corner,  what  a  change !  All  is  light  and  bril- 
liancy. The  hum  of  many  voices  issues  from  that  splendid  gin- 
shop  which  forms  the  commencement  of  the  two  streets  opposite, 
and  the  gay  building  with  the  fantastically  ornamented  parapet, 
the  illuminated  clock,  the  plate-glass  windows  surrounded  by 
stucco  rosettes,  and  its  profusion  of  gas-lights  in  richly  gilt 
burners,  is  perfectly  dazzling  when  contrasted  with  the  darkness 
and  dirt  we  have  just  left.  The  interior  is  even  gayer  than  the 
exterior.  A  bar  of  French  polished  mahogany,  elegantly  carved, 
extends  the  whole  width  of  the  place ;  and  there  are  two  side- 
aisles  of  great  casks,  painted  green  and  gold,  enclosed  within  a 
light  brass  rail,  and  bearing  such  inscriptions  as  '  Old  Tom,  549 ;' 
« Young  Tom,  360 ;'  '  Samson,  1421.'  Beyond  the  bar  is  a  lofty 
and  spacious  saloon,  full  of  the  same  enticing  vessels,  with  a  gal- 
lery running  round  it,  equally  well  furnished.  On  the  counter, 
in  addition  to  the  usual  spirit  apparatus,  are  two  or  three  little 
baskets  of  cakes  and  biscuits,  which  are  carefully  secured  at  the 
top  with  wicker-work,  to  prevent  their  contents  being  unlawfully 
abstracted.  Behind  it  are  two  showily-dressed  damsels  with 
large  necklaces,  dispensing  the  spirits  and  '  compounds/  They 
are  assisted  by  the  ostensible  proprietor  of  the  concern,  a  stout 
coarse  fellow  in  a  fur  cap,  put  on  very  much  on  one  side,  to  give 
him  a  knowing  air,  and  display  his  sandy  whiskers  to  the  best 
advantage. 

"  It  is  growing  late,  and  the  throng  of  men,  women*  and  chil- 


OF   ENGLAND.  401 

dren,  who  have  been  constantly  going  in  and  out,  dwindles  down 
to  two  or  three  occasional  stragglers — cold,  wretched-looking 
creatures,  in  the  last  stage  of  emaciation  and  disease.  The  knot 
of  Irish  labourers  at  the  lower  end  of  the  place,  who  have  been, 
alternately  shaking  hands  with,  and  threatening  the  life  of,  each 
other  for  the  last  hour,  become  furious  in  their  disputes,  and  find- 
ing it  impossible  to  silence  one  man,  who  is  particularly  anxious 
to  adjust  the  difference,  they  resort  to  the  infallible  expedient  of 
knocking  him  down  and  jumping  on  him  afterward.  The  man 
in  the  fur  cap  and  the  potboy  rush  out ;  a  scene  of  riot  and  con- 
fusion ensues  ;  half  the  Irishmen  get  shut  out,  and  the  other  half 
get  shut  in ;  the  potboy  is  knocked  among  the  tubs  in  no  time ; 
the  landlord  hits  everybody,  and  everybody  hits  the  landlord ; 
the  barmaids  scream  ;  the  police  come  in  ;  and  the  rest  is  a  con- 
fused mixture  of  arms,  legs,  staves,  torn  coats,  shouting,  and 
struggling.  Some  of  the  party  are  borne  off  to  the  station-house, 
and  the  remainder  slink  home  to  beat  their  wives  for  complain- 
ing, and  kick  the  children  for  daring  to  be  hungry." 

The  neglected  and  frightfully  wretched  condition  of 
a  great  part  of  the  juvenile  population  in  the  British 
towns  has  frequently  excited  the  attention  of  philan- 
thropic Englishmen.  On  the  6th  of  June,  1848,  Lord 
Ashley  ma,de  a  speech  on  juvenile  destitution  in  the 
House  of  Commons,  in  which  he  drew  an  awful  picture 
of  misery  and  degradation.  He  showed  that  in  the 
midst  of  London  there  is  a  large  and  continually  in- 
creasing number  of  lawless  persons,  forming  a  separate 
class,  having  pursuits,  interests,  manners,  and  customs 
of  their  own.  These  are  quite  independent  of  the 
number  of  mere  pauper  children  who  crowd  the  streets 
of  London,  and  who  never  attend  a  school.  The  law- 


402  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

less  class  were  estimated   by  Lord  Ashley  to  number 
thirty  thousand. 

"Of  1600  who  were  examined,  162  confessed  that  they  had 
been  in  prison,  not  merely  once,  or  even  twice,  but  some  of  them 
several  times  ;  116  had  run  away  from  their  homes ;  170  slept  in 
the  *  lodging  houses ;'  253  had  lived  altogether  by  beggary ;  216 
had  neither  shoes  nor  stockings ;  280  had  no  hat  or  cap,  or  cover- 
ing for  the  head ;  101  had  no  linen ;  249  had  never  slept  in  a 
bed ;  many  had  no  recollectiou  of  ever  having  been  in  a  bed ; 
68  were  the  children  of  convicts. 

"  In  1847  it  was  found  that  of  4000  examined,  400  confessed 
that  they  had  been  in  prison,  660  lived  by  beggary,  178  were  the 
children  of  convicts,  and  800  had  lost  one  or  both  their  parents. 
Now,  what  was  the  employment  of  these  people  ?  They  might 
be  classed  as  street-sweepers;  vendors  of  lucifer  matches, 
oranges,  cigars,  tapes,  and  ballads ;  they  held  horses,  ran 
errands,  jobbed  for  'dealers  in  marine  stores/  that  being  the 
euphonious  term  for  receivers  of  stolen  goods — an  influential  race 
in  the  metropolis,  but  for  whose  agency  a  very  large  proportion 
of  juvenile  crime  would  be  extinguished.  It  might  be  asked, 
how  did  the  large  number  who  never  slept  in  bed  pass  the  night  ? 
In  all  manner  of  places :  under  dry  arches  of  bridges  and  via- 
ducts, under  porticos,  sheds,  carts  in  outhouses,  sawpits,  or 
staircases,  or  in  the  open  air,  and  some  in  lodging-houses.  Curi- 
ous, indeed,  was  their  mode  of  life.  One  boy,  during  the  incle- 
ment period  of  1847,  passed  the  greater  part  of  his  nights  in  the 
large  iron  roller  in  the  Kegent's  Park.  He  climbed  over  the 
railings,  and  crept  to  the  roller,  where  he  lay  in  comparative 
security. 

"Lord  Ashley  says,  'many  of  them  were  living  in  the  dry 
arches  of  houses  not  finished,  inaccessible  except  by  an  aperture, 
only  large  enough  to  admit  the  body  of  a  man.  "When  a  lantern 
was  thrust  in,  six  or  eight,  ten  or  twelve  people  might  be  found 
lying  together.  Of  those  whom  we  found  thus  lodged,  we  in- 
vited a  great  number  to  come  the  following  day,  and  there  an 


OF   ENGLAND.  403 

examination  was  instituted.  The  number  examined  was  33. 
Their  ages  varied  from  12  to  18,  and  some  were  younger.  24  had 
no  parents,  6  had  one,  3  had  stepmothers,  20  had  no  shirts,  9  no 
shoes,  12  had  been  once  in  prison,  3  twice,  3  four  times,  1  eight 
times,  and  1  (only  14  years  old)  twelve  times.  The  physical  con- 
dition of  these  children  was  exceedingly  bad ;  they  were  a  prey  to 
vermin,  they  were  troubled  with  itch,  they  were  begrimed  with 
dirt,  not  a  few  were  suffering  from  sickness,  and  two  or  three 
days  afterward  several  died  from  disease  and  the  effects  of 
starvation.  I  privately  examined  eight  or  ten.  I  was  anxious 
to  obtain  from  them  the  truth.  I  examined  them  separately, 
taking  them  into  a  room  alone.  I  said,  "  I  am  going  to  ask  you 
a  variety  of  questions,  to  which  I  trust  you  will  give  me  true  an- 
swers, and  I  will  undertake  to  answer  any  question  you  may 
put."  They  thought  that  a  fair  bargain.  I  put  to  several  of 
them  the  question,  "How  often  have  you  slept  in  a  bed  during 
the  last  three  years  ?"  One  said,  perhaps  twelve  times,  another 
three  times,  another  could  not  remember  that  he  ever  had.  I 
asked  them,  how  they  passed  the  night  in  winter.  They  said, 
"  We  lie  eight  or  ten  together,  to  keep  ourselves  warm."  I  en- 
tered on  the  subject  of  their  employments  and  modes  of  living. 
They  fairly  confessed  they  had  no  means  of  subsistence  but  beg- 
ging and  stealing.  The  only  way  of  earning  a  penny  in  a  legiti- 
mate way  was  by  picking  up'  old  bones.  But  they  fairly 
acknowledged  for  themselves  and  others  scattered  over  the  town, 
with  whom  they  professed  themselves  acquainted,  that  they  had 
not  and  could  not  have  any  other  means  of  subsistence  than  by 
begging  and  stealing.  A  large  proportion  of  these  young  per- 
sons were  at  a  most  dangerous  age  for  society.  What  was  the 
moral  condition  of  those  persons  ?  A  large  proportion  of  them 
(it  was  no  fault  of  theirs)  did  not  recognise  the  distinctive  rights 
of  meum  and  tuum.  Property  appeared  to  them  to  be  only  the 
aggregate  of  plunder.  They  held  that  every  thing  which  was  pos- 
sessed was  common  stock ;  that  he  who  got  most  was  the  cleverest 
fellow,  and  that  every  one  had  a  right  to  abstract  from  that  stock 
what  he  could  by  his  own  ingenuity.  Was  it  matter  of  surprise 
that  they  entertained  those  notions,  which  were  instilled  into 


404  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

their  minds  from  the  time  they  were  able  to  creep  on  all  fours — 
that  not  only  did  they  disregard  all  the  rights  of  property,  but 
gloried  in  doing  so,  unless  they  thought  the  avowal  would  bring 
them  within  the  grasp  of  the  law.  To  illustrate  their  low  state 
of  morality,  and  to  show  how  utterly  shameless  they  were  in 
speaking  on  these  subjects,  I  would  mention  what  had  passed  at 
a  ragged  school  to  which  fourteen  or  fifteen  boys,  having  pre- 
sented themselves  on  a  Sunday  evening,  were  admitted  as  they 
came.  They  sat  down,  and  the  lesson  proceeded.  The  clock 
struck  eight.  They  all  rose  with  the  exception  of  one  little  boy. 
The  master  took  him  by  the  arm  and  said,  "  You  must  remain ; 
the  lesson  is  not  over."  The  reply  was,  "  We  must  go  to  busi- 
ness." The  master  inquired  what  business  ?  "  We  must  all  go 
to  catch  them  as  they  come  out  of  the  chapels."  It  was  neces- 
sary for  them,  according  to  the  remark  of  this  boy,  to  go  at  a 
certain  time  in  pursuit  of  their  calling.  They  had  no  remorse 
or  shame,  in  making  the  avowal,  because  they  believed  that  there 
were  no  other  means  of  saving  themselves  from  starvation.  I 
recollect  a  very  graphic  remark  made  by  one  of  those  children  in 
perfect  simplicity,  but  which  yet  showed  the  horrors  of  their  po- 
sition. The  master  had  been  pointing  out  to  him  the  terrors  of 
punishment  in  after-life.  The  remark  of  the  boy  was,  "That 
may  be  so,  but  I  don't  think  it  can  be  any  worse  than  this  world 
has  been  to  me."  Such  was  the  condition  of  hundreds  and 
thousands/  ;; 

A  large  number  of  the  depraved  children  live  in 
what  are  called  the  "lodging-houses."  Most  Ame- 
ricans have  heard  of  the  "  Old  Brewery"  at  the  Five 
Points  in  New  York  city,  where  more  than  two  hun- 
dred persons  of  all  ages  and  sexes  were  crowded 
together.  Such  lodging-houses  as  this,  (which  fortu- 
nately has  been  destroyed,)  are  common  in  London  and 
the  ^yre ,  lucial  towns  of  Great  Britain.  Mr.  Mayhew, 


OF   ENGLAND.  405 

in  his  "London  Labour  and  the  London  Poor/'  has 
given  us  very  full  information  concerning  them.  He 
obtained  much  of  it  from  one  who  had  passed  some 
time  among  the  dens  of  infamy.  He  says  of  these 
lodging-houses — 

"  *  They  have  generally  a  spacious,  though  often  ill-ventilated 
kitchen,  the  dirty,  dilapidated  walls  of  which  are  hung  with  prints, 
while  a  shelf  or  two  are  generally,  though  barely,  furnished  witVv 
crockery  and  kitchen  utensils.  In  some  places  knives  and  forks 
are  not  provided,  unless  a  penny  is  left  with  the  "  deputy,"  or  mana- 
ger, till  they  are  returned.  A  brush  of  any  kind  is  a  stranger, 
and  a  looking-glass  would  be  a  miracle.  The  average  number  of 
nightly  lodgers  is  in  winter  seventy,  in  the  summer  (when  many 
visit  the  provinces)  from  forty  to  forty-five.  The  general  charge 
is,  if  two  sleep  together,  3cZ.  per  night,  or  4d.  for  a  single  bed.  In 
either  case,  it  is  by  no  means  unusual  to  find  eighteen  or  twenty 
in  one  small  room,  the  heat  and  horrid  smell  from  which  are  in- 
sufferable ;  and,  where  there  are  young  children,  the  staircases 
are  the  lodgment  of  every  kind  of  filth  and  abomination.  In  some 
houses  there  are  rooms  for  families,  where,  on  a  rickety  machine, 
which  they  dignify  by  the  name  of  a  bedstead,  may  be  found  the 
man,  his  wife,  and  a  son  or  daughter,  perhaps  eighteen  years  of  age ; 
while  the  younger  children,  aged  from  seven  to  fourteen,  sleep  on 
the  floor.  If  they  have  linen,  they  take  it  off  to  escape  vermin, 
and  rise  naked,  one  by  one,  or  sometimes  brother  and  sister  to- 
gether. This  is  no  ideal  picture ;  the  subject  is  too  capable  of 
being  authenticated  to  need  any  meaningless  or  dishonest  assist- 
ance called  "  allowable  exaggeration."  The  amiable  and  deservedly 
popular  minister  of  a  district  church,  built  among  lodging-houses, 
has  stated  that  he  has  found  twenty-nine  human  beings  in  one 
apartment ;  and  that  having  with  difficulty  knelt  down  between 
two  beds  to  pray  with  a  dying  woman,  his  legs  became  so  jammed 
that  he  could  hardly  get  up  again. 

" '  Out  of  some  fourscore  such  habitations/  continues  my  inform- 
ant, '  I  have  only  found  two  which  had  any  sort  of  garden ;  and,  I  am 
R* 


406  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

happy  to  add,  that  in  neither  of  these  two  was  there  a  single  case 
of  cholera.    In  the  others,  however,  the  pestilence  raged  with  ter- 
"riblefury."' 

There  are  other  lodging-houses  still  lower  in  charac- 
ter than  those  described  above,  and  whero  there  is  a 
total  absence  of  cleanliness  and  decency.  A  man  who 
had  slept  in  these  places,  gave  the  following  account  to 
Mr.  Mayhew : — 

"  He  had  slept  in  rooms  so  crammed  with  sleepers — he  believed 
there  were  thirty  where  twelve  would  have  been  a  proper  number 
— that  their  breaths  in  the  dead  of  night  and  in  the  unventilated 
chamber,  rose  (I  use  his  own  words)  '  in  one  foul,  choking  steam 
of  stench/  This  was  the  case  most  frequently  a  day  or  two  prior 
to  Greenwich  Fair  or  Epsom  Races,  when  the  congregation  of  tho 
wandering  classes,  who  are  the  supporters  of  the  low  lodging- 
houses,  was  the  thickest.  It  was  not  only  that  two  or  even  three 
persons  jammed  themselves  into  a  bed  not  too  large  for  one  full- 
sized  man  ;  but  between  the  beds — and  their  partition  one  from 
another  admitted  little  more  than  the  passage  of  a  lodger — wero 
placed  shakedowns,  or  temporary  accommodation  for  nightly 
slumber.  In  the  better  lodging-houses  the  shakedowns  are  small 
palliasses  or  mattrasses ;  in  the  worst  they  are  bundles  of  rags  of 
any  kind ;  but  loose  straw  is  used  only  in  the  country  for  shake- 
downs. Our  informant  saw  a  traveller,  who  had  arrived  late,  eyo 
his  shakedown  in  one  of  the  worst  houses  with  any  thing  but  a 
pleased  expression  of  countenance ;  and  a  surly  deputy,  observing 
this,  told  the  customer  he  had  his  choice, '  which/  the  deputy  added, 
'is  not  as  all  men  has,  or  I  shouldn't  have  been  waiting  here  on 
you.  But  you  has  your  choice,  I  tell  you ; — sleep  there  on  that 

shakedown,  or  turn  out  and  be ;  that's  fair/     At  some  of 

the  busiest  periods,  numbers  sleep  on  the  kitchen  floor,  all  huddled 
together,  men  and  women,  (when  indecencies  are  common  enough,) 
and  without  bedding  or  any  thing  but  their  scanty  clothes  to  soften 


OF  ENGLAND.  407 

the  hardness  of  the  stone  or  brick  floor.  A  penny  is  saved  to  the 
lodger  by  this  means.  More  than  two  hundred  have  been  accom- 
modated in  this  way  in  a  large  house.  The  Irish,  in  harvest-time, 
very  often  resort  to  this  mode  of  passing  the  night. 

"  I  heard  from  several  parties,  of  the  surprise,  and  even  fear  or 
horror,  with  which  a  decent  mechanic — more  especially  if  he  were 
accompanied  by  his  wife — regarded  one  of  these  foul  dens,  when 
destitution  had  driven  him  there  for  the  first  time  in  his  life. 
Sometimes  such  a  man  was  seen  to  leave  the  place  abruptly, 
though  perhaps  he  had  prepaid  his  last  half-penny  for  the  re- 
freshment of  a  night's  repose.  Sometimes  he  was  seized  with  sick- 
ness. I  heard  also  from  some  educated  persons  who  had  *  seen 
better  days/  of  the  disgust  with  themselves  and  with  the  world, 
which  they  felt  on  first  entering  such  places.  'And  I  have  some 
reason  to  believe/  said  one  man,  '  that  a  person,  once  well  off,  who 
has  sunk  into  the  very  depths  of  poverty,  often  makes  his  first  ap- 
pearance in  one  of  the  worst  of  those  places.  Perhaps  it  is  because 
he  keeps  away  from  them  as  long  as  he  can,  and  then,  in  a  sort  of 
desperation  fit,  goes  into  the  cheapest  he  can  meet  with ;  or  if  he 
knows  it's  a  vile  place,  he  very  likely  says  to  himself— as  I  did — 
"  I  may  as  well  know  the  worst  at  once." ' 

"Another  man,  who  had  moved  in  good  society,  said,  when 
asked  about  his  resorting  to  a  low  lodging-house :  *  When  a  man's 
lost  caste  in  society,  he  may  as  well  go  the  whole  hog,  bristles  and 
all,  and  a  low  lodging-house  is  the  entire  pig/ 

"  Notwithstanding  many  abominations,  I  am  assured  that  tho 
lodgers,  in  even  the  worst  of  these  habitations,  for  the  most  part, 
sleep  soundly.  B  ^t  they  have,  in  all  probability,  been  out  in  the 
open  air  the  whole  of  the  day,  and  all  of  them  may  go  to  their 
couches,  after  having  walked,  perhaps,  many  miles,  exceedingly 
fatigued,  and  some  of  them  half  drunk.  *  Why,  in  course,  sir/ 
said  a  '  traveller/  whom  I  spoke  to  on  this  subject,  ( if  you  is  in  a 
country  town  or  village,  where  there's  only  one  lodging-house, 
perhaps,  and  that  a  bad  one — an  old  hand  can  always  suit  hisself 
in  London — you  must  get  half  drunk,  or  your  money  for  your  bed 
is  wasted.  There's  so  much  rest  owing  to  you,  after  a  hard  day ; 
and  bugs  and  bad  air'll  prevent  its  being  paid,  if  you  don't  lay  in 


408  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

some  stock  of  beer,  or  liquor  of  some  sort,  to  sleep  on.  It's  a  duty 
you  owes  yourself;  but,  if  you  haven't  the  browns,  why,  then,  in 
course,  you  can't  pay  it.'  I  have  before  remarked,  and,  indeed, 
have  given  instances,  of  the  odd  and  sometimes  original  manner 
in  which  an  intelligent  patterer,  for  example,  will  express  himself. 

"  The  information  I  obtained  in  the  course  of  this  inquiry  into 
the  condition  of  low  lodging-houses,  afforded  a  most  ample  cor- 
roboration  of  the  truth  of  a  remark  I  have  more  than  once  found 
it  necessary  to  make  before — that  persons  of  the  vagrant  class  will 
sacrifice  almost  any  thing  for  warmth,  not  to  say  heat.  Otherwise, 
to  sleep,  or  even  sit,  in  some  of  the  apartments  of  these  establish- 
ments would  be  intolerable. 

"  From  the  frequent  state  of  weariness  to  which  I  have  alluded, 
there  is  generally  less  conversation  among  the  frequenters  of  the 
low  lodging-houses  than  might  be  expected.  Some  are  busy  cook- 
ing, some  (in  the  better  houses)  are  reading,  many  are  drowsy  and 
nodding,  and  many  are  smoking.  In  perhaps  a  dozen  places  of 
the  worst  and  filthiest  class,  indeed,  smoking  is  permitted  even  in 
the  sleeping-rooms ;  but  it  is  far  less  common  than  it  was  even 
half-a-doz3n  years  back,  and  becomes  still  less  common  yearly. 
Notwithstanding  so  dangerous  a  practice,  fires  are  and  have  been 
very  unfrequent  in  these  places.  There  is  always  some  one. awake, 
which  is  one  reason.  The  lack  of  conversation,  I  ought  to  add, 
and  the  weariness  and  drowsiness,  are  less  observable  in  the  lodg- 
ing-houses patronized  by  thieves  and  women  of  abandoned  cha- 
racter, whose  lives  are  comparatively  idle,  and  whose  labour  a  mere 
nothing.  In  their  houses,  if  their  conversation  be  at  all  general, 
it  is  often  of  the  most  unclean  character.  At  other  times  it  is  car- 
ried on  in  groups,  with  abundance  of  whispers,  shrugs,  and  slang, 
"by  the  members  of  the  respective  schools  of  thieves  or  lurkers." 
*  *  *  #  #  *  *  "  * 

"  The  licentiousness  of  the  frequenters,  and  more  especially  the 
juvenile  frequenters,  of  the  low  lodging-houses,  must  be  even  more 
briefly  alluded  to.  In  some  of  these  establishments,  men  and 
•women,  boys  and  girls, — but  perhaps  in  no  case,  or  in  very  rare 
cases,  unless  they  are  themselves  consenting  parties,  herd  together 
promiscuously*  The  information  which  I  have  given  from  a  reve- 


OF   ENGLAND.  409 

rend  informant  indicates  the  nature  of  the  proceedings,  when  the 
sexes  are  herded  indiscriminately,  and  it  is  impossible  to  pre- 
sent to  the  reader,  in  full  particularity,  the  records  of  the  vice 
practised. 

"Boys  have  boastfully  carried  on  loud  conversations,  and  from 
distant  parts  of  the  room,  of  their  triumphs  over  the  virtue  of  girls, 
and  girls  have  laughed  at  and  encouraged  the  recital.  Three, 
four,  five,  six,  and  even  more  boys  and  girls  have  been  packed, 
head  and  feet,  into  one  small  bed ;  some  of  them  perhaps  never 
met  before.  On  such  occasions  any  clothing  seems  often  enough 
to  be  regarded  as  merely  an  encumbrance.  Sometimes  there  are 
loud  quarrels  and  revilings  from  the  jealousy  of  boys  and  girls, 
and  more  especially  of  girls  whose  '  chaps'  have  deserted  or  been 
inveigled  from  them.  At  others,  there  is  an  amicable  interchange 
of  partners,  and  next  day  a  resumption  of  their  former  compa- 
nionship. One  girl,  then  fifteen  or  sixteen,  who  had  been  leading 
this  vicious  kind  of  life  for  nearly  three  years,  and  had  been  re- 
peatedly in  prison,  and  twice  in  hospitals — and  who  expressed  a 
strong  desire  to  '  get  out  of  the  life'  by  emigration — said:  '  What- 
ever that's  bad  and  wicked,  that  any  one  can  fancy  could  be  done 
in  such  places  among  boys  and  girls  that's  never  been  taught,  or 
won't  be  taught,  better,  is  done,  and  night  after  night/  In  these 
haunts  of  low  iniquity,  or  rather  in  the  room  into  which  the 
children  are  put,  there  are  seldom  persons  above  twenty.  The 
young  lodgers  in  such  places  live  by  thieving  and  pocket-picking, 
or  by  prostitution.  The  charge  for  a  night's  lodging  is  generally 
2d.,  but.  smaller  children  have  often  been  admitted  for  Id.  If  a 
boy  or  girl  resort  to  one  of  these  dens  at  night  without  the  means 
of  defraying  the  charge  for  accommodation,  the  '  mot  of  the  ken' 
(mistress  of  the  house)  will  pack  them  off,  telling  them  plainly 
that  it  wjll  be  no  use  their  returning  until  they  have  stolen  some; 
thing  worth  2d.  If  a  boy  or  girl  do  not  return  in  the  evening,  and 
have  not  been  heard  to  express  their  intention  of  going  elsewhere, 
the  first  conclusion  arrived  at  by  their  mates  is  that  they  have 
*  got  into  trouble/  (prison.) 

"  The  indiscriminate  admixture  of  the  sexes  among  adults,  in 
many  of  these  places,  is  another  evi^  Even  in  some  houses  con- 

27 


410  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

sidered  of  the  bettor  sort,  men  and  women,  husbands  and  wives, 
old  and  young,  strangers  and  acquaintances,  sleep  in  the  same 
apartment,  and  if  they  choose,  in  the  same  bed.  Any  remonstrance 
at  some  act  of  gross  depravity,  or  impropriety,  on  the  part  of  a 
woman  not  so  utterly  hardened  as  the  others,  is  met  with  abuse 
and  derision.  One  man  who  described  these  scenes  to  me,  and 
had  long  witnessed  them,  said  that  almost  the  only  women  who  ever 
hid  their  faces  or  manifested  dislike  of  the  proceedings  they  could 
net  but  notice,  (as  far  as  he  saw,)  were  poor  Irishwomen,  generally 
those  who  live  by  begging :  *  But  for  all  that/  the  man  added,  *  an 
Irishman  or  Irishwoman  of  that  sort  will  sleep  anywhere,  in  any 
mess,  to  save  a  halfpenny,  though  they  may  have  often  a  few  shil- 
lings, or  a  good  many,  hidden  about  them.' " 


The  recent  report  of  Captain  Hays,  "  on  the  opera- 
tion of  the  Common  Lodging-house  Act/'  presents  some 
appalling  facts : — 

"  Up  to  the  end  of  February,  it  was  ascertained  that  3100  per- 
sons, mostly  Irishmen,  in  the  very  heart  of  the  metropolis,  lodged 
every  night,  84,000  individuals  in  3712  rooms.  The  instances 
enumerated  are  heart  sickening.  In  a  small  room  in  Rosemary 
lane,  near  the  Tower,  fourteen  adults  were  sleeping  on  the  floor 
without  any  partition  or  regard  to  decency.  In  an  apartment  in 
Church  lane,  St.  Giles,  not  fifteen  feet  square,  were  thirty-seven 
women  and  children,  all  huddled  together  on  the  floor.  There  are 
thousands  of  similar  cases.  The  eastern  portion  of  London,  com- 
prising Whitechapel,  Spitalfields,  and  Mile-end — an  unknown  land 
to  all  of  the  decent  classes — is  filled  with  a  swarming  population 
of  above  300,000  beggars,  costertnongers,  thieves,  ragsellers,  Jews, 
and  the  like.  A  single  court  is  a  fair  example  of  this  whole  dis- 
trict. It  contains  eight  houses  of  two  rooms  each.  Three  hun- 
dred persons — men,  women,  and  children — live  there.  There  is 
only  one  place  of  convenience ;  and  one  hydrant,  which  is  served 
half  an  hour  ea,ch  day.  The  condition  of  this  court  may  be  ima- 


OF  ENGLAND.  411 

gined;  it  is  too  filthy  to  describe.  Decayed  matter,  stagnant 
water,  refuse  fish,  vegetables,  broken  baskets,  dead  cats,  dogs,  and 
rats,  are  strewed  everywhere  around.  The  prices  of  various  kinds 
of  provision  in  these  neighbourhoods  give  a  forcible  notion  of  the 
condition  of  the  population.  You  can  purchase  for  a  halfpenny 
fish  or  meat  enough  for  a  dinner. 

"  In  this  neighbourhood  is  Rag  Fair.  It  is  worth  a  visit.  Thou- 
sands of  persons  are  assembled  in  the  streets,  which  are  so  thickly 
covered  with  merchandise  that  it  is  difficult  to  step  along  without 
treading  on  heaps  of  gowns,  shawls,  bonnets,  shoes,  and  articles  of 
men's  attire.  There  is  no  conceivable  article  of  dress  that  may 
not  be  purchased  here.  It  is  not  without  danger  that  one  even 
visits  the  place  at  noonday.  You  are  in  the  midst  of  the  refuse  of 
all  London, — of  a  whole  race,  whose  chief  employment  is  to  com- 
mit depredations  upon  property,  and  whose  lives  are  spent  in  the 
midst  of  a  squalor,  filth,  deprivation  and  degradation,  which  the 
whole  world  cannot  probably  parallel.  One  of  the  London  mis- 
sionaries says — *  Persons  who  are  accustomed  to  run  up  heavy 
bills  at  the  shops  of  fashionable  tailors  and  milliners  will  scarcely 
believe  the  sums  for  which  the  poor  are  able  to  purchase  the  same 
kind  of  articles.  I  have  recently  clothed  a  man  and  woman,  both 
decently,  for  the  sum  of  nine  shillings.  There  is  as  great  a  variety 
of  articles  in  pattern,  shape,  and  size,  as  could  be  found  in  any 
draper's  shop  in  London.  The  mother  may  go  to  Rag  Fair,  with 
the  whole  of  her  family,  both  boys  and  girls — yes,  and  her  hus- 
band, too — and  for  a  very  few  shillings  deck  them  out  from  top  to 
toe.  I  have  no  doubt  that  a  man  and  his  wife,  and  five  or  six 
children,  with  £1  would  purchase  for  themselves  an  entire  change. 
This  may  appear  an  exaggeration ;  but  I  actually  overheard  a  con- 
versation, in  which  two  women  were  trying  to  bargain  for  a  child's 
frock ;  the  sum  asked  was  ~L%d.t  and  the  sum  offered  was  lc?.,  and 
they  parted  on  the  difference.' 

"  The  following  is  a  bill  delivered  by  a  dealer  to  one  of  the  mis- 
sionaries, who  was  requested  to  supply  a  suit  of  clothes  for  a  man 
and  woman  whom  he  had  persuaded  to  get  married  several  years 
after  the  right  time : — 


412  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

s.  d. 

A  full  linen-fronted  shirt,  very  elegant 0  6 

A  pair  of  warm  worsted  stockings 0  1 

A  pair  of  light-coloured  trousers 0  6 

A  black  cloth  waistcoat 0  3 

A  pair  of  white  cotton  braces 0  1 

A  pair  of  low  shoes 0  1 

A  black  silk  velvet  stock 0  1 

A  black  beaver,  fly-fronted,  double-breasted  paletot  coat, 

lined  with  silk,  a  very  superior  article 1  6 

A  cloth  cap,  bound  with  a  figured  band 0  1 

A  pair  of  black  cloth  gloves 0  1 

3  3 

"  The  man  had  been  educated,  and  could  speak  no  fewer  than, 
five  languages ;  by  profession  he  was,  however,  nothing  but  a  dust- 
hill  raker. 

"  The  bill  delivered  for  the  bride's  costume  is  as  follows : 

A  shift 0  1 

A  pair  of  stays 0  2 

A  flannel  petticoat 0  4 

A  black  Orleans  ditto 0  4 

A  pair  of  white  cotton  stockings 0  1 

A  very  good  light-coloured  cotton  gown 0  10 

A  pair  of  single-soled  slippers,  with  spring  heels 0  2 

A  double-dyed  bonnet,  including  a  neat  cap 0  2 

A  pair  of  white  cotton  gloves 0  1 

A  lady's  green  silk  paletot,  lined  with  crimson   silk,  % 

trimmed  with  black 0  10 


Throughout  the  country  there  are  low  lodging-houses, 
which  do  not  differ  much  in  character  from  those  of 
London.  In  all  of  them  the  most  disgusting  immorality 
is  practised 'to  an  extent  scarcely  conceivable  by  those 
who  do  not  visit  such  dens  of  vice  and  misery. 


OF   ENGLAND.  413 

The  story  of  the  Jew  Fagan,  and  his  felonious  opera- 
tions, in  Dickens's  Oliver  Twist,  is  a  true  representation 
of  a  most  extensive  business  in  London.  There  are  a 
large  number  of  notorious  receivers  of  stolen  goods. 
Some  of  them  keep  a  number  of  boys,  who  are  instructed 
in  stealing,  and  beaten  severely  when  unsuccessful. 
Mayhew  mentions  one  notorious  case  in  George-yard. 
A  wooden-legged  Welshman,  named  Hughes,  and  com- 
monly called  Taff,  was  the  miscreant.  Two  little  boys 
were  his  chief  agents  in  stealing,  and-when  they  did  not 
obtain  any  thing,  he  would  take  the  strap  off  his  wooden 
leg,  and  beat  them  through  the  nakedness  of  their  rags. 
He  boarded  and  lodged  about  a  dozen  Chelsea  and 
Greenwich  pensioners.  These  he  followed  and  watched 
closely  until  they  were  paid.  Then,  after  they  had  set- 
tled with  him,  he  would  make  them  drunk  and  rob 
them  of  the  few  shillings  they  had  left. 

The  brutal  treatment  of  servants,  which  we  have 
already  touched,  drives  many  of  them  to  the  low  lodging- 
houses,  and  to  the  commission  of  crime.  In  the  follow- 
ing narrative,  which  a  girl  communicated  to  Mr.  Mayhew, 
we  have  an  illustration  of  thi§  assertion,  as  well  as 
some  awful  disclosures  in  regard  to  "life  among  the 
lowly:-— 

"  *  I  am  an  orphan.  "When  I  was  ten  I  was  sent  to  service  as  a 
maid  of  all-work,  in  a  small  tradesman's  family.  It  was  a  hard 
place,  and  my  mistress  used  me  very  cruelly,  beating  me  often. 
When  I  ]*ad  been  in  place  three  weeks,  my  mother  died;  my 


414  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

father  having  died  twelve  years  before.  I  stood  my  mistress's  ill- 
treatment  about  six  months.  She  beat  me  with  sticks  as  well  as 
with  her  hands.  I  was  black  and  blue,  and  at  last  I  ran  away. 

I  got  to  Mrs. ,  a  low  lodging-house.     I  didn't  know  before 

that  there  was  such  a  place.  I  heard  of  it  from  some  girls  at  the 
Glasshouse,  (baths  and  wash-houses,)  where  I  went  for  shelter.  I 
went  with  them  to  have  a  halfpenny  worth  of  coffee,  and  they  took 
me  to  the  lodging-house.  I  then  had  three  shillings,  and  stayed 
about  a  month,  and  did  nothing  wrong,  living  on  the  three  shil- 
lings and  what  I  pawned  my  clothes  for,  as  I  got  some  pretty  good 
things  away  with  me.  In  the  lodging-house  I  saw  nothing  but 
what  was  bad,  and  heard  nothing  but  what  was  bad.  I  was 
laughed  at,  and  was  told  to  swear.  They  said,  'Look  at  her  for 

a  d modest  fool' — sometimes  worse  than  that,  until  by  degrees 

I  got  to  be  as  bad  as  they  were.  During  this  time  I  used  to  see 
boys  and  girls  from  ten  to  twelve  years  old  sleeping  together,  but 
understood  nothing  wrong.  I  had  never  heard  of  such  places 
before  I  ran  away.  I  can  neither  read  nor  write.  My  mother 
was  a  good  woman,  and  I  wish  I'd  had  her  to  run  away  to.  I 
saw  things  between  almost  children  that  I  can't  describe  to  you — 
very  often  I  saw  them,  and  that  shocked  me.  At  the  month's 
end,  when  I  was  beat  out,  I  met  with  a  young  man  of  fifteen — I 
myself  was  going  on  to  twelve  years  old — and  he  persuaded  me 
to  take  up  with  him.  I  stayed  with  him  three  months  in  the 
same  lodging-house,  living  with  him  as  his  wife,  though  we  were 
mere  children,  and  being  true  to  him.  At  the  three  months'  end 
he  was  taken  up  for  picking  pockets,  and  got  six  months.  I  was 
sorry,  for  he  was  kind  to  me ;  though  I  was  made  ill  through 
him ;  so  I  broke  some  windows  in  St.  Paul's  churchyard  to  get 
into  prison  to  get  cured.  I  had  a  month  in  the  Compter,  and 
came  out  well.  I  was  scolded  very  much  in  the  Compter,  on 
account  of  the  state  I  was  in,  being  so  young.  I  had  2s.  Qd.  given 
to  me  when  I  came  out,  and  was  forced  to  go  into  the  streets  for 
a  living.  I  continued  walking  the  streets  for  three  years,  some- 
times making  a  good  deal  of  money,  sometimes  none,  feasting  one 
day  and  starving  the  next.  The  bigger  girls  could  persuade  me 
to  do  any  thing  they  liked  with  my  money.  I  was  never  happy 


OF   ENGLAND.  415 

all  the  time,  but  I  could  get  no  character,  and  could  not  get  out 
of  the  life.  I  lodged  all  this  time  at  a  lodging-house  in  Kent- 
street.  They  were  all  thieves  and  bad  girls.  I  have  known 
between  three  and  four  dozen  boys  and  girls  sleep  in  one  room. 
The  beds  were  horrid  filthy  and  full  of  vermin.  There  was  very 
wicked  carryings  on.  The  boys,  if  any  difference,  was  the  worst. 
We  lay  packed,  on  a  full  night,  a  dozen  boys  and  girls  squeedged 
into  one  bed.  That  was  very  often  the  case— some  at  the  foot 
and  some  at  the  top — boys  and  girls  all  mixed.  I  can't  go  into 
all  the  particulars,  but  whatever  could  take  place  in  words  or  acts 
between  boys  and  girls  did  take  place,  and  in  the  midst  of  the 
others.  I  am  sorry  to  say  I  took  part  in  these  bad  ways  myself, 
but  I  wasn't  so  bad  as  some  of  the  others.  There  was  only  a 
candle  burning  all  night,  but  in  summer  it  was  light  great  part 
of  the  night.  Some  boys  and  girls  slept  without  any  clothes,  and 
would  dance  about  the  room  that  way.  I  have  seen  them,  and, 
wicked  as  I  was,  felt  ashamed.  I  have  seen  two  dozen  capering 
about  the  room  that  way ;  some  mere  children,  the  boys  generally 
the  youngest.  *  *  There  were  no  men  or 

women  present.  There  were  often  fights.  The  deputy  never  in- 
terfered. This  is  carried  on  just  the  same  as  ever  to  this  day, 
and  is  the  same  every  night.  I  have  heard- young  girls  shout  out 
to  one  another  how  often  they  had  been  obliged  to  go  to  the  hos- 
pital, or  the  infirmary,  or  the  workhouse.  There  was  a  great  deal 
of  boasting  about  what  the  boys  and  girls  had  stolen  during  the 
day.  I  have  known  boys  and  girls  change  their  '  partners/  just 
for  a  night.  At  three  years'  end  I  stole  a  piece  of  beef  from  a 
"butcher.  I  did  it  to  get  into  prison.  I  was  sick  of  the  life  I  was 
leading,  and  didn't  know  how  to  get  out  of  it.  I  had  a  month  for 
stealing.  When  I  got  out  I  passed  two  days  and  a  night  in  the 
streets  doing  nothing  wrong,  and  then  went  and  threatened  to 

break  Messrs. 's  windows  again.     I  did  that  to  get  into 

prison  again ;  for  when  I  lay  quiet  of  a  night  in  prison  I  thought 
things  over,  and  considered  what  a  shocking  life  I  was  leading* 
and  how  my  health  might  be  ruined  completely,  and  I  thought;  I 
would  stick  to  prison  rather  than  go  back  to  such  a  life,  I  got 
six  months  for  threatening.  When  I  got  out  I  broke  a  lamp  next 


416  THE    WHITE    SLAVES 

morning  for  the  same  purpose,  and  had  a  fortnight.  That  was 
the  last  time  I  was  in  prison.  I  have  since  been  leading  the  same 
life  as  I  told  you  of  for  the  three  years,  and  lodging  at  the  same 
houses,  and  seeing  the  same  goings  on.  I  hate  such  a  life  now 
more  than  ever.  I  am  willing  to  do  any  work  that  I  can  in  wash- 
ing and  cleaning.  I  can  do  a  little  at  my  needle.  I  could  do 
hard  work,  for  I  have  good  health.  I  used  to  wash  and  clean  in 
prison,  and  always  behaved  myself  there.  At  the  house  where  I 

am  it  is  3d  a  night ;  but  at  Mrs. 's  it  is"  Id.  and  2d.  a  night, 

and  just  the  same  goings  on.  Many  a  girl — nearly  all  of  them — 
goes  out  into  the  streets  from  this  penny  and  twopenny  house,  to 
get  money  for  their  favourite  boys  by  prostitution.  If  the  girl 
can  not  get  money  she  must  steal  something,  or  will  be  beaten  by 
her  '  chap'  when  she  comes  home.  I  have  seen  them  beaten,  often 
kicked  and  beaten  until  they  were  blind  from  bloodshot,  and  their 
teeth  knocked  out  with  kicks  from  boots  as  the  girl  lays  on  the 
ground.  The  boys,  in  their  turn,  are  out  thieving  all  day,  and 
the  lodging-house  keeper  will  buy  any  stolen  provisions  of  them, 
and  sell  them  to  the  lodgers.  I  never  saw  the  police  in  the  house. 
If  a  boy  comes  to  the  house  on  a  night  without  money  or  sawney, 
or  something  to  sell  to  the  lodgers,  a  handkerchief  or  something 
of  that  kind,  he  is  not  admitted,  but  told  very  plainly,  *  Go  thieve 
it,  then/  Girls  are  treated  just  the  same.  Anybody  may  call 
in  the  daytime  at  this  house  and  have  a  halfpenny  worth  of  coffee 
and  sit  any  length  of  time  until  evening.  I  have  seen  three  dozen 
sitting  there  that  way,  all  thieves  and  bad  girls.  There  are  no 
chairs,  and  only  one  form  in  front  of  the  fire,  on  which  a  dozen 
can  sit.  The  others  sit  on  the  floor  all  about  the  room,  as  near 
the  fire  as  they  can.  Bad  language  goes  on  during  the  day,  as  I 
told  you  it  did  during  the  night, -and  indecencies  too,  but  nothing 
like  so  bad  as  at  night.  They  talk  about  where  there  is  good 
places  to  go  and  thieve.  The  missioners  call  sometimes,  but 
they're  laughed  at  often  when  they're  talking,  and  always  before 
the  door's  closed  on  them.  If  a  decent  girl  goes  there  to  get  a 
ha'porth  of  coffee,  seeing  the  board  over  the  door,  she  is  always 
shocked.  Many  a  poor  girl  has  been  ruined  in  this  house  since  I 
•was,  and  boys  have  boasted  about  it.  I  never  knew  boy  or  girl  do 


OF   ENGLAND.  417 

good,  once  get  used  there.  Get  used  there,  indeed,  and  you  are 
life-ruined.  I  was  an  only  child,  and  haven't  a  friend  in  the 
world.  I  have  heard  several  girls  say  how  they  would  like  to 
get  out  of  the  life,  and- out  of  the  place.  From  those  I  know,  I 
think  that  cruel  parents  and  mistresses  cause  many  to  be  driven 
there.  One  lodging-house  keeper,  Mrs. ,  goes  out  dressed  re- 
spectable, and  pawns  any  stolen  property,  or  sells  it  at  public- 
houses/ 

"As  a  corroboration  of  the  girl's  statement,  a  wretched-looking 
boy,  only  thirteen  years  of  age,  gave  me  the  following  additional 
information.  He  had  a  few  rags  hanging  about  him,  and  no  shirt 
— indeed,  he  was  hardly  covered  enough  for  purposes  of  decency, 
his  skin  being  exposed  through  the  rents  in  his  jacket  and  trou- 
sers. He  had  a  stepfather,  who  treated  him  very  cruelly.  The 
stepfather  and  the  child's  mother  went  *  across  the  country/  beg- 
ging and  stealing.  Before  the  mother  died,  an  elder  brother  ran 
away  on  account  of  being  beaten. 

"'  Sometimes/  I  give  his  own  words,  'he  (the  stepfather) 
wouldn't  give  us  a  bit  to  eat,  telling  us  to  go  and  thieve  for  it. 
My  brother  had  been  a  month  gone  (he's  now  a  soldier  in  Gib- 
raltar) when  I  ran  away  to  join  him.  I  knew  where  to  find  him, 
as  we  met  sometimes.  We  lived  by  thieving,  and  I  do  still — by 

pulling  flesh,  (stealing  meat.)  I  got  to  lodge  at  Mrs. ,  and  have 

been  there  this  eight  months.  I  can  read  and  write  a  little/  This 
boy  then  confirmed  what  the  young  girl  had  told  me  of  the  grossest  • 
acts  night  by  night  among  the  boys  and  girls,  the  language,  &c., 
and  continued : — '  I  always  sleep  on  the  floor  for  Id.,  and  pay 
\d.  besides  for  coke.  At  this  lodging-house  cats  and  kittens  are 
melted  down,  sometimes  twenty  a  day.  A  quart  pot  is  a  cat,  and 
pints  and  half-pints  are  kittens.  A  kitten  (pint)  brings  3d.  from 
the  rag-shops,  and  a  cat  6d.  There's  convenience  to  melt  them 
down  at  the  lodging-house.  "We  can't  sell  clothes  in  the  house, 
except  any  lodger  wants  them ;  and  clothes  nearly  all  go  to  the 

Jews  in  Petticoat-lane.      Mrs. buys  the  sawney  of  us ;  so 

much  for  the  lump,  2d.  a  pound  about;  she  sells  it  again  for 
twice  what  she  gives,  and  more.  Perhaps  30  Ibs.  of  meat  every 
day  is  sold  to  her.  I  have  been  in  prison  six  times,  and  have 


418  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

had  three  dozen ;  each  time  I  came  out  harder.     If  I  left  Mrs. 

's  house  I  don't  know  how  I  could  get  my  living.     Lots  of 

boys  would  get  away  if  they  could.  I  never  drink.  I  don't  like 
it.  Very  few  of  us  boys  drink.  I  don't  like  thieving,  and  often 
go  about  singing ;  but  I  can't  live  by  singing,  and  I  dont  know 
how  I  could  live  honestly.  If  I  had  money  enough  to  buy  a  stock 
of  oranges,  I  think  I  could  be  honest/  " 

Mr.  Mayhew  called  a  meeting  of  thieves  and  beggars 
at  the  Bristol  Union  School-room,  Shakspeare  Walk, 
Shadwell.  One  hundred  and  fifty  of  them — all  under 
twenty  years  of  age — attended.  It  may  be  doubted 
whether  such  a  meeting  could  have  been  brought  about 
in  any  other  city.  The  young  thieves  and  beggars 
were  very  fair  samples  of  their  numerous  class.  Of 
professed  beggars,  there  were  fifty;  and  sixty-six  ac- 
knowledged themselves  habitual  thieves.  The  an- 
nouncement that  the  greater  number  present  were 
thieves,  pleased  them  exceedingly,  and  was  received 
with  three  rounds  of  applause !  Fourteen  of  them  had 
been  in  prison  over  twenty  times,  and  twenty  stated 
that  they  had  been  flogged  in  prison.  Seventy-eight 
of  them  regularly  roamed  through  the  country  every 
year ;  sixty-five  slept  regularly  in  the  casual  wards  of 
the  Unions  ;  and  fifty-two  occasionally  slept  in  trampers' 
lodging-houses  throughout  the  country. 

The  ignorance  prevailing  among  the  vast  number  of 
street-sellers  in  London,  is  rather  comically  illustrated 
by  Mr.  Mayhew,  in  the  following  instance : — 


OF   ENGLAND.  419 

"  One  boy  gave  me  his  notions  of  men  and  things.  He  was  a 
thick-limbed,  red-cheeked  fellow;  answered  very  freely,  and 
sometimes,  when  I  could  not  help  laughing  at  his  replies,  laughed 
loudly  himself,  as  if  he  entered  into  the  joke. 

"  Yes,  he  had  heer'd  of  God  who  made  the  world.  Couldn't 
exactly  recollec'  when  he'd  heerd  on  him,  but  he  had,  most 
sarten-ly.  Didn't  know  when  the  world  was  made,  or  how  any- 
body could  do  it.  It  must  have  taken  a  long  time.  It  was  afore 
his  time,  *  or  yourn  either,  sir/  Knew  there  was  a  book  called 
the  Bible  ;  didn't  know  what  it  was  about ;  didn't  mind  to  know; 
knew  of  such  a  book  to  a  sartinty,  because  a  young  'oman  took 
one  to  pop  (pawn)  for  an  old  'oman  what  was  on  the  spree — a 
bran  new  'un — but  the  cove  wouldn't  have  it,  and  the  old  'oman 

said  he  might  be  d d.  Never  heer'd  tell  on  the  deluge,  of  the 

world  having  been  drownded  ;  it  couldn't,  for  there  wasn't  water 
enough  to  do  it.  He  weren't  a  going  to  fret  hisself  for  such 
things  as  that.  Didn't  know  what  happened  to  people  after  death, 
only  that  they  was  buried.  Had  seen  a  dead  body  laid  out ;  was 
a  little  afeared  at  first ;  poor  Dick  looked  so  different,  and  when 
you  touched  his  face  he  was  so  cold !  oh,  so  cold !  Had  heer'd 
on  another  world ;  wouldn't  mind  if  he  was  there  hisself,  if  he 
could  do  better,  for  things  was  often  queer  here.  Had  heer'd  on 
it  from  a  tailor — such  a  clever  cove,  a  stunner — as  went  to 
;Straliar,  (Australia,)  and  heer'd  him  say  he  was  going  into 
another  world.  Had  never  heer'd  of  France,  but  had  heer'd  of 
Frenchmen ;  there  wasn't  half  a  quarter  so  many  on  'em  as  of 
Italians,  with  their  ear-rings  like  flash  gals.  Didn't  dislike 
foreigners,  for  he  never  saw  none.  What  was  they  ?  Had 
heer'd  of  Ireland.  Didn't  know  where  it  was,  but  it  couldn't  be 
very  far,  or  such  lots  wouldn't  come  from  there  to  London. 
Should  say  they  walked  it,  ay,  every  bit  of  the  way,  for  he'd  seen 
them  come  in  all  covered  with  dust.  Had  heer'd  of  people  going 
to  sea,  and  had  seen  the  ships  in  the  river,  but  didn't  know 
nothing  about  it,  for  he  was  very  seldom  that  way.  The  sun  was 
made  of  fire,  or  it  wouldn't  make  you  feel  so  warm.  The  stars 
was  fire,  too,  or  they  wouldn't  shine.  They  didn't  make  it  warm, 
they  was  too  small.  Didn't  know  any  use  they  was  of.  Didn't 


420  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

know  how  far  they  was  off;  a  jolly  lot  higher  than  the  gas  lights 
some  on  'em  was.  .Was  never  in  a  church ;  had  heer'd  they 
worshipped  God  there ;  didn't  know  how  it  was  done;  had  heer'd 
singing  and  praying  inside  when  he'd  passed ;  never  was  there, 
for  he  hadn't  no  togs  to  go  in,  and  wouldn't  be  let  in  among  such 
swells  as  he  had  seen  coming  out.  Was  a  ignorant  chap,  for 
he'd  never  been  to  school,  but  was  up  to  many  a  move,  and  didn't 
do  bad.  Mother  said  he  would  make  his  fortin  yet. 

"  Had  heer'd  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington ;  he  was  Old  Nosey ; 
didn't  think  he  ever  seed  him,  but  had  seen  his  statty.  Hadn't 
heer'd  of  the  battle  of  Waterloo,  nor  who  it  was  atween ;  once 
lived  in  Webber-row,  Waterloo-road.  Thought  he  had  heer'd 
speak  of  Bonaparte ;  didn't  know  what  he  was ;  thought  he'd 
heer'd  of  Shakspeare,  but  didn't  know  whether  he  was  alive  or 
dead,  and  didn't  care.  A  man  with  something  like  that  name 
kept  a  dolly  and  did  stunning ;  but  he  was  sich  a  hard  cove  that 
if  lie  was  dead  it  wouldn't  matter.  Had  seen  the  queen,  but 
didn't  recollec'  her  name  just  at  the  minute ;  oh !  yes,  Wictoria 
and  Albert.  Had  no  notion  what  the  queen  had  to  do.  Should 
think  she  hadn't  such  power  [he  had  first  to  ask  me  what  'power* 
was]  as  the  lord  mayor,  or  as  Mr.  Norton  as  was  the  Lambeth 
beak,  and  perhaps  is  still.  Was  never  once  before  a  beak,  and 
didn't  want  to.  Hated  the  crushers ;  what  business  had  they  to 
interfere  with  him  if  he  was  only  resting  his  basket  in  a  street  ? 
Had  been  once  to  the  Wick,  and  once  to  the  Bower ;  liked  tum- 
bling better ;  he  meant  to  have  a  little  pleasure  when  the  peas 
came  in." 

The  vagabond  propensities  of  the  street-children  are 
thus  described  by  Mr.  Mayhew : — 

"  As  soon  as  the  warm  weather  commences,  boys  and  girls,  but 
more  especially  boys,  leave  the  town  in  shoals,  traversing  the 
country  in  every  direction ;  some  furnished  with  trifling  articles 
(such  as  I  have  already  enumerated)  to  sell,  and  others  to  beg- 
ging, lurking,  or  thieving.  It  is  not  the  street-sellers  who  so 


OF   ENGLAND.  421 

much  resort  to  the  tramp,  as  those  who  are  devoid  of  the  com- 
monest notions  of  honesty ;  a  quality  these  young  vagrants  some- 
times respect  when  in  fear  of  a  jail,  and  the  hard  work  with 
which  such  a  place  is  identified  in  their  minds — and  to  which, 
with  the  peculiar  idiosyncrasy  of  a  roving  race,  they  have  an 
insuperable  objection. 

"  I  have  met  with  boys  and  girls,  however,  to  whom  a  jail  had 
no  terrors,  and  to  whom,  when  in  prison,  there  was  only  one 
dread,  and  that  a  common  one  among  the  ignorant,  whether  with 
or  without  any  sense  of  religion — superstition.  *  I  lay  in  prison 
of  a  night,  sir/  said  a  boy  who  was  generally  among  the  briskest 
of  his  class,  '  and  think  I  shall  see  things/  The  *  things'  repre- 
sent the  vague  fears  which  many,  not  naturally  stupid,  but  un- 
taught or  ill-taught  persons,  entertain  in  the  dark.  A  girl,  a 
perfect  termagant  in  the  breaking  of  windows  and  suchlike 
offences,  told  me  something  of  the  same  kind.  She  spoke  well 
of  the  treatment  she  experienced  in  prison,  and  seemed  to  have  a 
liking  for  the  matron  and  officials  ;  her  conduct  there  was  quiet 
and  respectful.  I  believe  she  was  not  addicted  to  drink. 

"Many  of  the  girls,  as  well  as  the  boys,  of  course  trade  as 
they  '  tramp/  They  often  sell,  both  in  the  country  and  in  town, 
little  necklaces  composed  of  red  berries  strung  together  upon 
thick  thread,  for  dolls  and  children ;  but  although  I  have  asked 
several  of  them,  I  have  never  yet  found  one  who  collected  the 
berries  and  made  the  necklaces  themselves ;  neither  have  I  met 
with  a  single  instance  in  which  the  girl  vendors  knew  the  name 
of  the  berries  thus  used,  nor  indeed  even  that  they  were  berries. 
The  invariable  reply  to  my  questions  upon  this  point  has  been 
that  they  *  are  called  necklaces  ;'  that  'they  are  just  as  they  sells 
'em  to  us  •'  that  they  '  dont  know  whether  they  are  made  or 
whether  they  grow ;'  and  in  most  cases,  that  they  '  gets  them  in 
London,  by  Shoreditch ;'  although  in  one  case  a  little  brown- 
complexioned  girl,  with  bright  sparkling  eyes,  said  that  '  she  got 
them  from  the  gipsies.'  At  first  I  fancied,  from  this  child's  ap- 
pearance, that  she  was  rather  superior  in  intellect  to  most  of  her 
class ;  but  I  soon  found  that  she  was  not  a  whit  above  the  others, 
unless,  indeed,  it  were  in  the  possession  of  the  quality  of  cunning." 
S 


422  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

The  regular  "tramps,"  or  wandering  vagabonds,  are 
very  numerous  throughout  Great  Britain.  At  certain 
periods  they  issue  from  all  the  large  towns,  and  prey 
upon  the  rural  districts  like  swarms  of  locusts.  In  no 
other  country  can  be  found  so  constant  a  class  of  va- 
grants. The  gipsies  form  but  a  small  portion  of  the 
"tramps."  These  vagrants  are  miserably  clothed, 
filthy,  covered  with  vermin,  and  generally  very  much 
diseased — sometimes  from  debauchery,  and  sometimes 
from  want  of  food  and  from  exposure.  Very  few  of 
them  are  married.  The  women  are  nearly  all  prosti- 
tutes. The  manner  of  life  of  these  wanderers  is 
curious.  They  beg  during  the  day  in  the  towns,  or 
along  the  roads;  and  they  so  arrange  their  day's 
tramp  as  to  arrive,  most  nights,  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  the  workhouses.  They  then  hide  the  money  they 
have  collected  by  begging,  and  present  themselves, 
after  sunset,  at  the  gates  of  the  workhouse,  to  beg  a 
night's  lodging.  To  nearly  every  workhouse  there  are 
attached  vagrant  wards,  or  buildings  which  are  spe- 
cially set  apart  for  the  reception  of  tramps  such  as 
those  we  have  described.  These  wards  are  commonly 
brick  buildings,  of  one  story  in  height.  They  have 
brick  floors  and  guard-room  beds,  with  loose  straw  and 
rugs  for  the  males,  and  iron  bedsteads,  with  straw,  for 
the  females.  They  are  badly  ventilated,  and  unprovided 
with  any  means  for  producing  warmth.  All  holes  for 
ventilation  are  sure  to  be  stopped  up  at  night,  by  the 


OF   ENGLAND.  423 

occupants,  with  rags  or  straw,  so  that  the  stench  of 
these  sleeping-places  is  disgusting  in  the  extreme. 
Guards  are  appointed  for  these  wards,  but  such  is  the 
immorality  and  indecency  of  the  vagrants,  that  the 
most  disgusting  scenes  are  common  in  them.  The 
wards  resound  with  the  vilest  songs  and  the  foulest 
language ;  and  so  numerous  are  the  "tramps"  that  the 
guardians  find  it  impossible  to  separate  the  sexes. 
This  vast  evil  of  vagrancy  is  constantly  increasing, 
and  is  a  natural  result  of  the  monopolies  and  oppres- 
sions of  the  aristocracy.  It  is  stated  that  on  the  25th 
of  March,  1848,  the  626  Unions  of  England  and  Wales 
relieved  16,086  vagrants.  But  this  scarcely  gives  an 
idea  of  the  magnitude  of  the  evil.  Between  40,000 
and  50,000  "tramps"  infest  the  roads  and  streets  of 
England  and  Wales  every  day.  The  majority  of  them 
are  thieves,  and  nearly  all  are  almost  brutally  ignorant. 
In  London  there  are  large  numbers  of  small  dealers, 
called  costermongers  and  patterers.  Persons  belonging 
to  these  classes  seldom  or  never  rise  above  their  trade, 
and  they  seem  to  have  a  kind  of  hereditary  pride  in 
their  degraded  position.  Many  of  the  costermongers 
and  patterers  are  thieves,  and  the  general  character  of 
these  classes  is  very  debased ;  ignorance  and  immorali- 
ty prevail  to  a  fearful  extent.  The  patterers  are  more 
intelligent  than  the  costermongers,  but  they  are  also 
more  immoral.  They  help  off  their  wares,  which  are 
chiefly  stationery  and  quack  medicines,  by  long  ha- 


424  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

rangues,  while  the  costermongers  merely  cry  their  fish, 
greens,  &c.  about  the  streets.  The  number  of  people 
dependent  upon  costermongering  in  London  is  about 
thirty  thousand.  The  patterers  are  not  so  numerous. 

Concubinage  is  the  rule  and  marriage  the  exception 
among  both  costermongers  and  patterers.  Mr.  Mayhew 
estimates  that  only  one-tenth  of  the  couples  living  to- 
gether and  carrying  on  the  costermongering  trade  are 
married.  There  is  no  honour  attached  to  the  marriage 
state  and  no  shame  to  concubinage.  In  good  times  the 
women  are  rigidly  faithful  to  their  paramours,  but  in 
the  worst  pinch  of  poverty  a  departure  from  fidelity  is 
not  considered  heinous.  About  three  out  of  a  hundred 
costermongers  ever  attend  a  church,  and  the  majority 
of  them  have  no  knowledge  of  Christianity ;  they  asso- 
ciate the  Church  of  England  and  aristocracy,  and  hate 
both.  Slang  is  acquired  very  rapidly,  and  some  coster- 
mongers will  converse  in  it  by  the  hour.  The  women 
use  it  sparingly;  the  girls  more  than  the  women;  the 
men  more  than  the  girls;  and  the  boys  most  of  all. 
Pronouncing  backward  is  the  simple  principle  upon 
which  the  costermonger  slang  is  founded. 

The  patterers,  though  a  vagrant,  are  an  organized 
class.  Mr.  Mayhew  says — 

"  There  is  a  telegraphic  despatch  between  them,  through  the 
length  and  breadth  of  the  land.  If  two  patterers  (previously  un- 
acquainted) meet  in  the  provinces,  the  following,  or  something 
like  it,  will  be  their  conversation: — Can  you  *  voker  romeny'  (can 


OF   ENGLAND.  425 

you  speak  cant?)  What  is  your  'monekeer?'  (name.)  Perhaps 
it  turns  out  that  one  is  *  White-headed  Bob/  and  the  .other  '  Ply- 
mouth Ned/  They  have  a  *  shant  of  gatter'  (pot  of  beer)  at  the 
nearest  *  boozing  ken/  (ale-house,)  and  swear  eternal  friendship 
to  each  other.  The  old  saying,  that  *  When  the  liquor  is  in  the 
wit  is  out/  is  remarkably  fulfilled  on  these  occasions,  for  they 
betray  to  the  '  flatties'  (natives)  all  their  profits  and  proceedings. 

"  It  is  to  be  supposed  that  in  country  districts,  where  there  are 
no  streets,  the  patterer  is  obliged  to  call  at  the  houses.  As  they 
are  mostly  without  the  hawker's  license,  and  sometimes  find  wet 
linen  before  it  is  lost,  the  rural  districts  are  not  fond  of  their  visits ; 
and  there  are  generally  two  or  three  persons  in  a  village  reported 
to  be  *  gammy/  that  is,  unfavourable.  If  a  patterer  has  been 
*  crabbed/  that  is,  ofiended,  at  any  of  the  '  cribs/  (houses,)  he 
mostly  chalks  a  signal  on  or  near  the  door.  I  give  one  or  two 
instances : — 

"  l  Bone/  meaning  good. 

"  '  Cooper'd/  spoiled  by  the  imprudence  of  some  other  patterer. 

"  *  Gammy/  likely  to  have  you  taken  up. 

"  '  Flummut/  sure  of  a  month  in  quod. 

"  In  most  lodging-houses  there  is  an  old  man  who  is  the  guide 
to  every  '  walk'  in  the  vicinity,  and  who  can  tell  every  house  on 
every  round  that  is  *  good  for  a  cold  'tater/  In  many  cases  there 
is  over  the  kitchen  mantelpiece  a  map  of  the  district,  dotted  here 
and  there  with  memorandums  of  failure  or  success. 

"  Patterers  are  fond  of  carving  their  names  and  avocations 
about  the  houses  they  visit.  The  old  jail  at  Dartford  has  been 
some  years  a  '  padding-ken/  In  one  of  the  rooms  appear  the 
following  autographs : — 

"  'Jemmy,  the  Rake,  bound  to  Bristol;  bad  beds,  but  no  bugs. 
Thank  God  for  all  things.' 

"  *  Razor  George  and  his  moll  slept  here  the  day  after  Christ- 
mas; just  out  of  "  stir,"  (jail,)  for  "  muzzling  a  peeler."  ' 

"  '  Scotch  Mary,  with  "  driz,"  (lace,)  bound  to  Dover  and  back, 
please  God.' 

"  Sometimes  these  inscriptions  are  coarse  and  obscene;  some- 
times very  well  written  and  orderly,  Nor  do  they  want  illustra- 
tions. t  >->  < . 


426  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

"At  the  old  factory,  Lincoln,  is  a  portrait  of  the  town  "beadle, 
formerly  a  soldier ;  it  is  drawn  with  different-coloured  chalks,  and 
ends  with  the  following  couplet: — 

6  You  are  a  B  for  false  swearing, 
In  hell  they'll  roast  you  like  a  herring.' 

"Concubinage  is  very" common  among  patterers,  especially  on 
their  travels;  they  have  their  regular  rounds,  and  call  the  pere- 
grination '  going  on  circuit/  For  the  most  part  they  are  early 
risers ;  this  gives  them  a  facility  for  meeting  poor  girls  who  have 
had  a  night's  shelter  in  the  union  workhouses.  They  offer  such 
girls  some  refreshments,  swear  they  are  single  men,  and  promise 
comforts  certainly  superior  to  the  immediate  position  of  their 
victims.  Consent  is  generally  obtained ;  perhaps  a  girl  of  four- 
teen or  fifteen,  previously  virtuous,  is  induced  to  believe  in  a  pro- 
mise of  constant  protection,  but  finds  herself,  the  next  morning, 
ruined  and  deserted;  nor  is  it  unlikely  that,  within  a  month  or 
two,  she  will  see  her  seducer  in  the  company  of  a  dozen  incidental 
wives.  A  gray-headed  miscreant,  called  *  Cutler  Tom/  boasts 
of  five  hundred  such  exploits ;  and  there  is  too  great  reason  to 
"believe  that  the  picture  of  his  own  drawing  is  not  greatly  over- 
charged." 

A  reverend  gentleman,  who  had  enjoyed  the  best 
opportunities  for  observing  the  patterers,  gave  Mr. 
Mayhew  the  following  information : — 

"  I  have  seen  fathers  and  mothers  place  their  boys  and  girls  in 
positions  of  incipient  enormity,  and  command  them  to  use  lan- 
guage and  gestures  to  each  other  which  would  make  a  harlot 
blush,  and  almost  a  heathen  tremble.  I  have  hitherto  viewed  the 
patterer  as  a  salesman,  having  something  in  his  hand,  on  whose 
merits,  real  or  pretended,  he  talks  people  out  of  their  money.  By 
slow  degrees  prosperity  rises,  but  rapid  is ,  the  advance  of  evil. 
The  patterer  sometimes  gets  'out  of  stock/  and  is  obliged,  at  no 
great  sacrifice  of  conscience,  to  '  patter'  in  another  strain.  In 
every  large  town,  sham  official  documents,  with  crests,  seals,  and 


OF   ENGLAND.  427 

signatures,  can  be  got  for  half-a-crown.  Armed  with  these,  the 
patterer  becomes  a  '  lurker/  that  is,  an  impostor ;  his  papers  cer^ 
tify  any  and  every  *  ill  that  flesh  is  heir  to.'  Shipwreck  is  called 
a  i  shake  lurk /  loss  by  fire  is  a  *  glim/  Sometimes  the  petitioner 
has  had  a  horse  which  has  dropped  dead  with  the  mad  staggers; 
or  has  a  wife  ill  or  dying,  and  six  or  seven  children  at  once  sick- 
ening of  the  small-pox.  Children  are  borrowed  to  support  the 
appearance;  the  case  is  certified  by  the  minister  and  churchwar- 
dens of  a  parish  which  exists  only  in  imagination ;  and  as  many 
people  dislike  the  trouble  of  investigation,  the  patterer  gets  enough 
to  raise  a  stock  in  trade,  and  divides  the  spoil  between  the  swag- 
shop  and  the  gin-palace.  Sometimes  they  are  detected,  and  get 
a  'drag/  (three  months  in  prison.) 

"  They  have  many  narrow  escapes ;  one  occurs  to  me  of  a  some- 
what ludicrous  character: — A  patterer  and  lurker  (now  dead) 
known  by  the  name  of  *  Captain  Moody/  unable  to  get  a  '  fake- 
ment'  written  or  printed,  was  standing  almost  naked  in  the  streets 
of  a  neighbouring  town.  A  gentleman  stood  still  and  .heard  his 
piteous  tale,  but,  having  been  *  done'  more  than  once,  he  resolved 
to  examine  the  affair,  and  begged  the  petitioner  to  conduct  him 
to  his  wife  and  children,  who  were  in  a  garret  on  a  bed  of  lan- 
guishing, with  neither  clothes,  food,  nor  fire,  but,  it  appeared, 
with  faith  enough  to  expect  a  supply  from  '  Him  who  feedeth  the 
ravens/  and  in  whose  sacred  name  even  a  cold  'tater  was  im- 
plored. The  patterer,  or  half-patterer  and  half-beggar,  took  the 
gentleman  (who  promised  a  sovereign  if  every  thing  was  square) 
through  innumerable  and  intricate  windings,  till  he  came  to  an 
outhouse  or  sort  of  stable.  He  saw  the  key  outside  the  door,  and 
begged  the  gentleman  to  enter  and  wait  till  he  borrowed  a  light 
of  a  neighbour  to  show  him  up-stairs.  The  illumination  never 
arrived,  and  the  poor  charitable  man  found  that  the  miscreant 
had  locked  him  into  the  stable.  The  patterer  went  to  the  pad- 
ding-ken, told  the  story  with  great  glee,  and  left  that  locality 
within  an  hour  of  the  occurrence/' 

Liverpool,  Manchester,  Birmingham,  and  other  pro- 
vincial cities  possess  an  ignorant  and  immoral  popula- 


428  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

tion*  quite  equal,  in  proportion  to  the  entire  population 
of  each  city,  to  that  of  London.  In  each  may  be  found 
a  degraded  class,  with  scarcely  any  ideas  of  religion  or 
morality,  living  in  the  most  wretched  manner,  and 
practising  every  species  of  vice.  The  cellar-houses,  in 
which  many  of  them  live,  have  been  described  in  another 
chapter.  They  are  the  filthy  abodes  of  a  people  almost 
reduced  to  a  brutish  condition.  In  Liverpool  parish 
there  is  a  cellar-population  of  20,000,  a  large  number 
of  whom  are  continually  engaged  in  criminal  practices. 
There  are  portions  of  the  city  of  Glasgow  which  a 
stranger  could  scarcely  traverse  safely  at  night,  and 
where  an  amount  of  vice  and  misery  may  be  witnessed 
which  is  not  exceeded  in  either  London  or  Liverpool. 

In  the  mining  and  manufacturing  districts  of  England 
there  is  much  ignorance  and  more  vice.  In  both,  there 
are  schools  of  a  miserable  character,  but  those  young 
persons  who  can  find  time  to  attend  them  learn  nothing 
beyond  reading,  writing,  and  the  simplest  rules  of  arith- 
metic. The  mining  labour,  as  carried  on  in  the  mines 
of  England,  is  extremely  demoralizing  in  its  tendency, 
as  we  have  shown  in  another  part  of  this  work.  The 
report  of  parliamentary  commissioners  contains  some 
statements  in  regard  to  the  darkness  of  mind  and  cor- 
ruption of  heart  among  young  persons  employed  in  the 
various  trades  and  manufactures. 

The  following  facts  are  quoted  from  the  Second  Re- 
port of  the  «  Children's  Employment  Commission/' 


OF  ENGLAND.  429 

The  moral  and  religious  state  of  the  children  and 
young  persons  employed  in  the  trades  and  manufactures 
of  Birmingham,  is  described  by  the  sub-commissioners 
as  very  unfavourable.  The  social  and  domestic  duties 
and  affections  are  but  little  cultivated  and  practised ; 
great  numbers  never  attend  any  place  of  public  worship ; 
and  of  the  state  of  juvenile  crime  some  conception  may 
be  formed  by  the  statement,  that  of  the  total  number  of 
known  or  suspected  offenders  in  this  town,  during  the 
twelve  last  months — namely,  1223 — at  least  one-half 
were  under  fifteen  years  of  age. 

As  to  illicit  sexual  intercourse,  it  seems  to  prevail 
almost  universally,  and  from  a  very  early  period  of  life ; 
to  this  common  conclusion  witnesses  of  every  rank  give 
testimony. 

WOLVEKHAMPTON. — Of  the  moral  condition  of  the 
youthful  population  in  the  Wolverhampton  district,  Mr. 
Home  says — "  Putting  together  all  I  elicited  from  va- 
rious witnesses  and  conversations  with  working  people, 
abroad  and  at  home,  and  all  that  fell  under  my  obser- 
vation, I  am  obliged  to  come  to  the  conclusion,  that  the 
moral  virtues  of  the  great  majority  of  the  children  are 
as  few  in  number  and  as  feeble  in  practice  as  can  well 
be  conceived  in  a  civilized  country,  surrounded  by  re- 
ligious and  educational  institutions,  and  by  individuals 
anxious  for  the  improvement  of  the  condition  of  the 
working  classes.", 

He  adds  of  WITTENHALL — «A  lower  condition  of 

s* 


430  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

morals,  in  the  fullest  sense  of  the  term,  could  not,  I 
think,  be  found.  I  do  not  mean  by  this  that  there  are 
many  more  prominent  vices  among  them,  but  that  moral 
feelings  and  sentiments  do  not  exist  among  them.  They 
have  no  morals." 

SHEFFIELD. — In  all  the  Sheffield  trades,  employing 
large  numbers  of  children,  it  is  stated  that  there  is  a 
much  closer  intermixture  of  the  younger  children  with 
the  elder  youths,  and  with  the  men,  than  is  usual  in 
the  cotton,  woollen,  and  flax  factories ;  and  that  the 
conversation  to  which  the  children  are  compelled  to 
listen,  would  debase  their  minds  and  blunt  their  moral 
feelings  even  if  they  had  been  carefully  and  virtuously 
educated,  but  that  of  course  this  result  takes  place 
more  rapidly  and  completely  in  the  case  of  those  who 
have  had  little  or  no  religious  culture,  and  little  but 
bad  example  before  their  eyes  from  their  cradle  up- 
ward. 

Habits  of  drinking  are  formed  at  a  very  early  age, 
malt  liquor  being  generally  introduced  into  the  work- 
shops, of  which  the  youngest  children  are  encouraged 
to  partake.  "Very  many,"  say  the  police-officers, 
"frequent  beer-shops,  where  they  play  at  dominoes, 
bagatelle,  &c.  for  money  or  drink."  Early  intemper- 
ance is  assigned  by  the  medical  men  as  one  cause  of  the 
great  mortality  of  Sheffield.  "  There  are  beer-houses," 
says  the  Rev.  Mr.  Farish,  "  attended  by  youths  exclu- 
sively, for  the  men  will  not  have  them  in  the  same  houses 


OF  ENGLAND.  431 

•with  themselves.  In  these  beer-houses  are  youths  of 
both  sexes  encouraged  to  meet,  and  scenes  destructive 
of  every  vestige  of  virtue  or  morality  ensue. 

But  it  is  stated  by  all  classes  of  witnesses,  that  "  the 
most  revolting  feature  of  juvenile  depravity  in  this 
town  is  early  contamination  from  the  association  of  the 
sexes/'  that  "juvenile  prostitution  is  exceedingly  com- 
mon." "  The  evidence/'  says  the  sub-commissioner, 
"  might  have  been  doubled  which  attests  the  early 
commencement  of  sexual  and  promiscuous  intercourse 
among  boys  and  girls." 

SEDGLEY. — At  Sedgley  and  the  neighbouring  vil- 
lages, the  number  of  girls  employed  in  nail-making 
considerably  exceeds  that  of  the  boys.  Of  these  girls 
Mr.  Home  reports — "  Their  appearance,  manners,  ha- 
bits, and  moral  natures  (so  far  as  the  word  moral  can 
be  applied  to  them)  are  in  accordance  with  their  half- 
civilized  condition.  Constantly  associating  with  igno- 
rant and  depraved  adults  and  young  persons  of  the 
opposite  sex,  they  naturally  fall  into  all  their  ways; 
and  drink,  smoke,  swear,  throw  off  all  restraint  in  word 
and  act,  and  become  as  bad  as  a  man.  The  heat  of 
the  forge  and  the  hardness  of  the  work  renders  few 
clothes  needful  in  winter ;  and  in  summer,  the  six  or 
seven  individuals  who  are  crowded  into  these  little  dens 
find  the  heat  almost  suffocating.  The  men  and  boys 
are  usually  naked,  except  a  pair  of  trousers  and  an 
open  shirt,  though  they  very  often  have  no  shirt ;  and 


432  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

the  women  and  girls  have  only  a  thin  ragged  petticoat, 
and  an  open  shirt  without  sleeves. " 

In  the  mining  districts,  there  is  even  more  ignorance 
and  depravity  than  in  the  places  where  factories  and 
workshops  abound.  The  nature  of  the  work,  and  va- 
rious wants,  such  as  no  freemen  would  suffer  from — 
want  of  proper  schools  and  proper  amusements — induce 
this  state  of  things.  An  American  visiting  any  of  these 
mining  districts,  would  be  astounded  at  the  dulness, 
ignorance,  and  viciousness  that  prevails  among  the 
labourers — men  and  women,  boys  and  girls.  Many  of 
them  are  perfect  heathens — never  hearing  of  God  except 
when  his  awful  name  is  "taken  in  vain."  Of  Christ 
and  his  mission  they  hear  somewhat,  but  know  nothing 
positively.  Newspapers — those  daily  and  weekly  mes- 
sengers that  keep  Americans  fully  informed  of  the  af- 
fairs of  the  world — they  seldom  see.  The  gin-shop  and 
the  brothel  are  their  common  resorts. 

Missionaries  are  wanted  in  Great  Britain.  Alas ! 
that  in  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth  century,  there 
ehould  be  so  many  hundreds  of  thousands  of  people,  in 
the  vicinity  of  a  costly  church  establishment,  without 
any  knowledge  of  the  Eible ! — that  a  professedly 
Christian  government  should  keep  so  many  souls  in 
ignorance  of  Christianity! — that  a  country  boasting 
of  its  civilization  and  enlightenment  should  contain  so 
much  darkness  and  depravity! 


OF  ENGLAND.  433 


CHAPTER  X. 

COOUE   SLAVERY  IN  THE  BRITISH  COLONIES. 

THE  British  government  emancipated  the  negro 
slaves  held  under  its  authority  in  the  West  Indies, 
thereby  greatly  depreciating  the  value  of  the  islands, 
permitting  a  half-tamed  race  to  fall  back  into  a  state 
of  moral  and  mental  darkness,  and  adding  twenty  mil- 
lions to  the  national  debt,  to  be  paid  out  of  the  sweat 
and  blood  of  her  own  white  serfs.  This  was  termed  a 
grand  act  of  humanity ;  those  who  laboured  for  it  have 
been  lauded  and  laurelled  without  stint,  and  English 
writers  have  been  exceedingly  solicitous  that  the  world 
should  not  "  burst  in  ignorance"  of  the  achievement. 

Being  free,  the  negroes,  with  the  indolence  inherent 
in  their  nature,  would  not  work.  Many  purses  suffered 
in  consequence,  and  the  purse  is  a  very  tender  place  to 
injure  many  persons.  It  became  necessary  to  substi- 
tute other  labourers  for  the  free  negroes,  and  the 
Coolies  of  India  were  taken  to  the  Antilles  for  ex- 
periment. These  labourers  were  generally  sober, 


434  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

steady,  and  industrious.  But  how  were  they  treated  ? 
A  colonist  of  Martinique,  who  visited  Trinidad  in 
June,  1848,  thus  writes  to  the  French  author  of  a 
treatise  on  free  and  slave  labour : — 

"  If  I  could  fully  describe  to  you  the  evils  and  suffering  endured 
by  the  Indian  immigrants  (Coolies)  in  that  horribly  governed 
colony,  I  should  rend  the  heart  of  the  Christian  world  by  a  re- 
cital of  enormities  unknown  in  the  worst  periods  of  colonial 
slavery. 

"  Borrowing  the  language  of  the  prophet,  I  can  truly  say,  '  The 
whole  head  is  sick,  and  the  whole  heart  is  sad ;  from  the  sole  of 
the  foot  to  the  top  of  the  head  nothing  is  sound ;'  wounds,  sores, 
swollen  ulcers,  which  are  neither  bandaged,  nor  soothed,  nor 
rubbed  with  oil. 

"My  soul  has  been  deeply  afflicted  by  all  that  I  have  seen. 
How  many  human  beings  lost!  So  far  as  I  can  judge,  in  spite 
of  their  wasting  away,  all  are  young,  perishing  under  the  weight 
of  disease.  Most  of  them  are  dropsical,  for  want  of  nourish- 
ment. Groups  of  children,  the  most  interesting  I  have  ever  seen, 
scions  of  a  race  doomed  to  misfortune,  were  remarkable  for  their 
small  limbs,  wrinkled  and  reduced  to  the  size  of  spindles — and 
not  a  rag  to  cover  them !  And  to  think  that  all  this  misery,  all 
this  destruction  of  humanity,  all  this  waste  of  the  stock  of  a 
ruined  colony,  might  have  been  avoided,  but  has  not  been! 
Great  God !  it  is  painful  beyond  expression  to  think  that  such  a 
neglect  of  duty  and  of  humanity  on  the  part  of  the  colonial  au- 
thorities, as  well  of  the  metropolis  as  of  the  colony — a  neglect 
which  calls  for  a  repressive  if  not  a  retributive  justice — will  go 
entirely  unpunished,  as  it  has  hitherto  done,  notwithstanding  the 
indefatigable  efforts  of  Colonel  Fagan,  the  superintendent  of  the 
immigrants  in  this  colony,  an  old  Indian  officer  of  large  ex- 
perience, of  whom  I  have  heard  nothing  but  good,  and  never  any 
evil  thing  spoken,  in  all  my  travels  through  the  island. 

"  I  am  told  that  Colonel  Fagan  prepared  a  regulation  for  the  go- 
vernment and  protection  of  the  immigrants — which  regulation 


OF   ENGLAND.  435 

would  probably  realize,  beyond  all  expectation,  the  object  aimed 
at ;  but  scarcely  had  he  commenced  his  operations  when  orders 
arrived  from  the  metropolis  to  suppress  it,  and  substitute  another 
which  proceeded  from  the  ministry.  The  Governor,  Mr.  Harris, 
displeased  that  his  own  regulation  was  thus  annulled,  pronounced 
the  new  order  impossible  to  be  executed,  and  it  was  withdrawn, 
without  having  been  properly  tried.  The  minister  sent  another 
order  in  regard  to  immigration,  prepared  in  his  hotel  in  Downing 
street ;  but  Governor  Harris  pronounced  it  to  be  still  more  diffi- 
cult of  execution  than  the  first,  and  it,  too,  failed.  It  is  in  this 
manner  that,  from  beginning  to  end,  the  affairs  of  the  Indian 
immigrants  have  been  conducted.  It  was  only  necessary  to  treat 
them  with  justice  and  kindness  to  render  them — thanks  to  their 
active  superintendent — the  best  labourers  that  could  be  imported 
into  the  colony.  They  are  now  protected  neither  by  regulations 
nor  ordinances ;  no  attention  is  paid  to  the  experienced  voice  of 
their  superintendent — full  of  benevolence  for  them,  and  always 
indefatigably  profiting  by  what  can  be  of  advantage  to  them. 
If  disease  renders  a  Coolie  incapable  of  work,  he  is  driven  from 
his  habitation.  This  happens  continually ;  he  is  not  in  that  case 
even  paid  his  wages.  What,  then,  can  the  unfortunate  creature 
do  ?  Very  different  from  the  Creole  or  the  African ;  far  distant 
from  his  country,  without  food,  without  money ;  disease,  the 
result  of  insufficient  food  and  too  severe  labour,  makes  it  im- 
possible for  him  to  find  employment.  He  drags  himself  into  the 
forests  or  upon  the  skirts  of  the  roads,  lies  there  and  dies  ! 

"  Some  years  since,  the  unfortunate  Governor  (Wall)  of  Gorea 
was  hung  for  having  pitilessly  inflicted  a  fatal  corporal  punish- 
ment on  a  negro  soldier  found  guilty  of  mutiny ;  and  this  soldier, 
moreover,  was  under  his  orders.  In  the  present  case,  I  can  prove 
a  neglect  to  a  great  extent  murderous.  The  victims  are  Indian 
Coolies  of  Trinidad.  In  less  than  one  year,  as  is  shown  by 
official  documents,  two  thousand  corpses  of  these  unfortunate 
creatures  have  furnished  food  to  the  crows  of  the  island ;  and  a 
similar  system  is  pursued,  not  only  without  punishment,  but 
without  even  forming  the  subject  of  an  official  inquest.  Strange 
and  deplorable  contradiction !  and  yet  the  nation  which  gives  us 


436  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

this  example  boasts  of  extending  the  segis  of  its  protection  over 
all  its  subjects,  without  distinction !  It  is  this  nation,  also,  that 
complacently  takes  to  itself  the  credit  of  extending  justice  equally 
over  all  classes,  over  the  lordly  peer  and  the  humblest  subject, 
without  fear,  favour,  or  affection 1" 

In  the  Mauritius,  the  Coolies  who  have  been  im- 
ported are  in  a  miserable  condition.  The  planters 
have  profited  by  enslaving  these  mild  and  gentle 
Hindoos,  and  rendering  them  wretched. 

"  By  aid  of  continued  Coolie  immigration,"  says  Mr.  Henry  C. 
Carey,*  "the  export  of  sugar  from  the  Mauritius  has  been  doubled 
in  the  last  sixteen  years,  having  risen  from  seventy  to  one  hun- 
dred and  forty  millions  of  pounds.  Sugar  is  therefore  very 
cheap,  and  the  foreign  competition  is  thereby  driven  from  the 
British  market.  '  Such  conquests/  however,  says,  very  truly,  the 
London  Spectator,  *  don't  always  bring  profit  to  the  conqueror ; 
nor  does  production  itself  prove  prosperity.  Competition  for  the 
possession  of  a  field  may  be  carried  so  far  as  to  reduce  prices 
below  prime  cost ;  and  it  is  clear,  from  the  notorious  facts  of  the 
"West  Indies — from  the  change  of  property,  from  the  total  un- 
productiveness of  much  property  still — that  the  West  India  pro- 
duction of  sugar  has  been  carried  on  not  only  without  replacing 
capital,  but  with  a  constant  sinking  of  capital/  The  'free' 
Coolie  and  the  '  free7  negro  of  Jamaica  have  been  urged  to  com- 
petition for  the  sale  of  sugar,  and  they  seem  likely  to  perish 
together;  but  compensation  for  this  is  found  in  the  fact  Lhat 
*  free  trade  has,  in  reducing  the  prices  of  commodities  for  home 
consumption,  enabled  the  labourer  to  devote  a  greater  share  of 
his  income  toward  purchasing  clothing  and  luxuries,  and  has  in- 
creased the  home  trade  to  an  enormous  extent/  "What  effect  this 
reduction  of  '  the  prices  of  commodities  for  home  consumption* 

*  The  Slave  Trade,  Domestic  and  Foreign. 


OF   ENGLAND.  437 

has  had  upon  the  poor  Coolies,  may  be  judged  from  the  following 
passage: — 'I  here  beheld,  for  the  first  time,  a  class  of  beings  of 
whom  we  have  heard  much,  and  for  whom  I  have  felt  considerable 
interest.  I  refer  to  the  Coolies  imported  by  the  British  govern- 
ment to  take  the  places  of  the  faineant  negroes,  when  the  appren- 
ticeship system  was  abolished.  Those  I  saw  were  wandering 
about  the  streets,  dressed  rather  tastefully,  but  always  meanly, 
and  usually  carrying  over  their  shoulder  a  sort  of  chiffdnnier's 
sack,  in  which  they  threw  whatever  refuse  stuff  they  found  in  the 
streets  or  received  as  charity.  Their  figures  are  generally  superb, 
and  their  Eastern  costume,  to  which  they  adhere  as  far  as  their 
poverty  will  permit  of  any  clothing,  sets  off  their  lithe  and  grace- 
ful forms  to  great  advantage.  Their  faces  are  almost  uniformly 
of  the  finest  classic  mould,  and  illuminated  by  pairs  of  those 
dark,  swimming,  and  propitiatory  eyes  which  exhaust  the  lan- 
guage of  tenderness  and  passion  at  a  glance.  But  they  are  the 
most  inveterate  mendicants  on  the  island.  It  is  said  that  those 
brought  from  the  interior  of  India  are  faithful  and  efficient  work- 
men, while  those  from  Calcutta  and  its  vicinity  are  good  for 
nothing.  Those  that  were  prowling  about  the  streets  of  Spanish 
Town  and  Kingston,  I  presume  were  of  the  latter  class,  for  there 
is  not  a  planter  on  the  island,  it  is  said,  from  whom  it  would  be 
more  difficult  to  get  any  work  than  from  one  of  them.  They  sub- 
sist by  begging  altogether.  They  are  not  vicious  nor  intemperate, 
nor  troublesome  particularly,  except  as  beggars.  In  that  calling 
they  have  a  pertinacity  before  which  a  Northern  mendicant  would 
grow  pale.  They  will  not  be  denied.  They  will  stand  perfectly 
still  and  look  through  a  window  from  the  street  for  a  quarter  of 
an  hour,  if  not  driven  away,  with  their  imploring  eyes  fixed  upon 
you  like  a  stricken  deer,  without  saying  a  word  or  moving  a 
muscle.  They  act  as  if 'it  were  no  disgrace  for  them  to  beg,  as  if 
an  indemnification  which  they  are  entitled  to  expect,  for  the  out- 
rage perpetrated  upon  them  in  bringing  them  from  their  distant 
homes  to  this  strange  island,  is  a  daily  supply  of  their  few  and 
cheap  necessities,  as  they  call  for  them.  I  confess  that  their 
begging  did  not  leave  upon  my  mind  the  impression  produced  by 
ordinary  mendicancy.  They  do  not  look  as  if  they  ought  to 


438  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

work.  I  never  saw  one  smile ;  and  though  they  showed  no  posi- 
tive suffering,  I  never  saw  one  look  happy.  Each  face  seemed  to 
be  constantly  telling  the  unhappy  story  of  their  woes,  and,  like 
fragments  of  a  broken  mirror,  each  reflecting  in  all  its  hateful 
proportions  the  national  outrage  of  which  they  are  the  vic- 
tims.' "* 

English  writers  have  frequently  charged  the  citizens 
of  the  United  States  with  being  sordid,  and  caring 
more  for  pecuniary  profit  than  honourable  principle. 
No  national  measure  of  the  great  North  American 
Republic,  however,  is  so  deeply  tainted  with  avaricious 
motives  as  the  colonial  enactments  and  commercial 
schemes  of  Great  Britain.  Witness  the  government 
of  British  India,  and  the  infamous  traffic  in  opium 
forced  upon  the  Chinese.  In  the  conveyance  of  Coolies 
to  the  West  Indies,  and  their  treatment  while  toiling 
in  those  islands,  we  see  the  same  base  spirit  displayed. 
All  considerations  of  humanity  have  been  sacrificed  to 
calculations  of  profit.  A  people,  naturally  mild  and 
intelligent,  have  been  taken  from  their  native  land  to 
distant  islands,  to  take  the  place  of  the  fierce  and  bar- 
barous Africans,  to  whose  civilization  slavery  seems 
almost  necessary;  and  in  their  new  land  of  bondage 
these  poor  creatures  have  been  deprived  of  the  induce- 
ments to  steady  exertion,  and  left  to  beg  or  starve. 

After  the  passage  of  the  act  abolishing  negro 
slavery,  an  arrangement  was  sanctioned  by  the  colo- 


*  Bigelcrw's  Jamaica  in  1850, 


OF   ENGLAND.  439 

nial  government  for  the  introduction  of  Indian  labour- 
ers into  the  Mauritius,  under  a  species  of  apprentice- 
.  ship.  The  Coolies  were  engaged  at  five  rupees,  equal 
to  ten  shillings  a  month,  for  five  years,  with  also  one 
pound  of  rice,  a  quarter  of  a  pound  of  dhall,  or  grain — 
a  kind  of  pulse — and  one  ounce  of  butter,  or  ghee, 
daily.  But  for  every  day  they  were  absent  from  their 
work  they  were  to  return  two  days  to  their  masters, 
who  retained  one  rupee  per  month  to  pay  an  advance 
made  of  six  months'  wages,  and  to  defray  the  expense 
of  their  passage.  If  these  men  came  into  Port  Louis 
to  complain  of  their  masters,  they  were  lodge"d  in  the 
Bagne  prison  till  their  masters  were  summoned !  Be- 
fore the  magistrates  the  masters  had  a  great  advan- 
tage over  their  servants.  The  latter  being  foreigners, 
but  few  of  them  could  speak  French,  and  they  had  no 
one  to  assist  them  in  pleading  their  cause.  They 
generally  represented  themselves  as  having  been  de- 
ceived with  respect  to  the  kind  of  labour  to  be  required 
of  them.* 

A  large  number  of  Indian  convicts  have  been  trans- 
ported to  the  Mauritius,  and  their  slavery  is  deplora- 
ble. Backhouse,  who  visited  the  island  when  these 
poor  wretches  were  not  so  numerous  as  they  now  are, 
says — "  Among  the  Indian  convicts  working  on  the 
road,  we  noticed  one  wearing  chains;  several  had  a 

*  Backhouse's  Visit  to  the  Mauritius, 


440  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

slight  single  ring  round  the  ankle.  They  are  lodged  in 
huts  with  flat  roofs,  or  in  other  inferior  dwellings  near 
the  road.  There  are  about  seven  hundred  of  them  in 
the  island.  What  renders  them  peculiarly  objects  of 
sympathy  is,  that  they  were  sent  here  for  life,  and  no 
hope  of  any  remission  of  sentence  is  held  out  to  them 
for  good  conduct.  Theirs  is  a  hopeless  bondage  ;  and 
though  it  is  said  by  some  that  they  are  not  hard  worked, 
yet  they  are  generally,  perhaps  constantly,  breaking 
stones  and  mending  the  roads,  and  under  a  tropical 
sun.  There  are  among  them  persons  who  were  so 
young  when  transported  that,  in  their  offences,  they 
could  only  be  looked  on  as  the  dupes  of  those  who  were 
older,  and  many  of  them  bear  good  characters." 

The  hopeless  slavery  of  these  convicts  is  a  doom 
which  displays,  in  a  striking  light,  the  characteristics 
of  British  philanthropy.  Death  would  be  preferable  to 
such  a  punishment,  in  the  estimation  of  many  of  the 
Hindoos;  but  the  British  authorities  are  determined  to 
make  the  punishment  pay !  After  the  "  eternal  blazon" 
concerning  the  act  of  emancipating  negroes,  for  which 
the  pauperized  labourers  of  Great  Britain  had  to  pay 
by  their  slavery,  the  colonial  government  created 
another  system,  attended  with  the  misery  and  degrada- 
tion of  a  peopje  better  fitted  for  freedom  than  the 
negroes.  The  civilized  world  is  requested  to  look  on 
and  admire ! 


OF   ENGLAND.  441 


CHAPTER  XL 

SLAVERY  IN   BRITISH  INDIA. 

THE  extensive,  populous,  and  wealthy  peninsula  of 
Hindostan  has  suffered  greatly  from  the  crushing 
effects  of  the  British  slave  system.  From  the  founda- 
tion of  the  empire  in  India  by  Clive,  conquest  and 
extortion  seem  to  have  been  the  grand  objects  of  the 
aristocratic  government.  There  unscrupulous  soldiers 
have  fought,  slaughtered,  enslaved,  and  plundered. 
There  younger  sons,  with  rank,  but  without  fortune, 
have  filled  their  purses.  There  vast  and  magnificent 
tracts  of  country  have  been  wasted  with  fire  and  sword, 
in  punishment  for  the  refusal  of  native  princes  to  be- 
come slaves.  There  the  fat  of  the  land  has  been  gar- 
nered up  for  the  luxury  of  the  conquerors,  while  famine 
has  destroyed  the  people  by  thousands.  There,  indeed, 
has  the  British  aristocracy  displayed  its  most  malig- 
nant propensities — rioting  in  robbery  and  bloodshed — 
setting  all  religion  at  defiance,  while  upholding  the 
Christian  standard — and  earning  to  the  full  the  con-* 
tinued  execration  of  mankind. 

29 


442  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

In  a  powerful  work,  called  « The  Aristocracy  of 
England :  a  History  for  the  People,  by  John  Hamp- 
den,  Jun.,"  a  book  we  commend  to  the  people  of 
England,  we  have  the  following  passage : — 

"  From  the  hour  that  Olive  and  his  coadjutors  came  into  the  dis- 
covery of  the  vast  treasures  of  the  native  princes,  whence  he  him- 
self obtained,  besides  his  jaghire  of  £30,000  per  annum,  about 
£300,000  ;  and  he  and  his  fellows  altogether,  between  1759  and 
1763,  no  less  than  £5,940,498,  exclusive  of  this  said  jaghire,  the 
cupidity  of  the  aristocracy  became  excited  to  the  highest  degree  ; 
and  from  that  period  to  the  present,  India  has  been  one  scene  of 
flights  of  aristocratic  locusts,  of  fighting,  plundering,  oppression, 
and  extortion  of  the  natives.  We  will  not  go  into  these  things  ; 
they  are  fully  and  faithfully  written  in  Mills's  *  History  of  British 
India  ;'  in  Howitt's  '  Colonization  and  Christianity ;'  and,  above 
all,  in  the  letters  of  the  Honourable  Frederick  Shore,  brother  of 
Lord  Teignmouth,  a  man  who  passed  through  all  offices — from  a 
clerk  to  that  of  a  judge — and  saw  much  of  the  system  and  work- 
ing of  things  in  many  parts  of  India.  He  published  his  letters 
originally  in  the  India  papers,  that  any  one  on  the  spot  might 
challenge  their  truth ;  and,  since  his  death,  they  have  been 
reprinted  in  England.  The  scene  which  that  work  opens  up  is 
the  most  extraordinary,  and  demands  the  attention  of  every  lover 
of  his  country  and  his  species.  It  fully  accounts  for  the  strange 
facts,  that  India  is  now  drained  of  its  wealth ;  that  its  public 
works,  especially  the  tanks,  which  contributed  by  their  waters  to 
maintain  its  fertility,  are  fallen  to  decay ;  that  one-third  of  the 
country  is  a  jungle  inhabited  by  tigers,  who  pay  no  taxes ;  that 
its  people  are  reduced  to  the  utmost  wretchedness,  and  are  often, 
when  a  crop  fails,  swept  away  by  half  a  million  at  once  by 
famine  and  its  pendant,  pestilence,  as  in  1770,  and  again  in 
1838-9.  To  such  a  degree  is  this  reduction  of  the  wealth  and 
cultivation  of  India  carried,  that  while  others  of  our  colonies  pay 
taxes  to  the  amount  of  a  pound  or  thirty  shillings  per  head,  India 
pays  only  four  shillings. 


OF   ENGLAND.  443 

"  At  the  renewal  of  its  charter  in  1834,  its  income  was  about 
twenty  millions,  its  debt  about  forty  millions.  Since  then  its  in- 
come has  gradually  fallen  to  about  seventeen  millions,  and  its 
debt  we  hear  now  whispered  to  be  about  seventy  millions.  Such 
have  been  the  effects  of  exhausted  fields  and  physical  energies  on 
the  one  hand,  and  of  wars,  especially  that  of  Affghanistan,  on  the 
other.  It  requires  no  conjurer,  much  less  a  very  profound  arith- 
metician, to  perceive  that  at  this  rate  we  need  be  under  no  appre- 
hension of  Russia,  for  a  very  few  years  will  take  India  out  of  our 
hands  by  mere  financial  force. 

"  Our  aristocratic  government,  through  the  Board  of  Control, 
keep  up  and  exert  a  vast  patronage  in  India.  The  patronage  of 
the  president  of  this  board  alone,  independent  of  his  salary  of 
£5000  a  year,  is  about  twenty-one  thousand  pounds.  But  the 
whole  aristocracy  have  an  interest  in  keeping  up  wars  in  India, 
that  their  sons  as  officers,  especially  in  these  times  of  European 
peace,  may  find  here  both  employment  and  promotion.  This, 
then,  the  Company  has  to  contend  against;  and  few  are  they 
who  are  aware  of  the  formidable  nature  of  this  power  as  it  is  ex- 
erted in  this  direction,  and  of  the  strange  and  unconstitutional 
legislative  authority  with  which  they  have  armed  themselves  for 
this  purpose.  How  few  are  they  who  are  aware  that,  while  the 
East  India  Company  has  been  blamed  as  the  planners,  authors, 
and  movers  of  the  fatal  and  atrocious  invasion  of  Cabul,  that  the 
Directors  of  the  Company  only  first,  and  to  their  great  amaze- 
ment, learned  the  outbreak  of  that  war  from  the  public  Indian 
papers.  So  far  from  that  war  being  one  of  their  originating,  it 
was  most  opposed  to  their  present  policy,  and  disastrous  to  their 
affairs.  How  then  came  this  monstrous  war  about,  and  who  then 
did  originate  it?  To  explain  this  requires  us  to  lay  open  a 
monstrous  stretch  of  unconstitutional  power  on  the  part  of  our 
government — a  monstrous  stratagem  for  the  maintenance  of  their 
aristocratic  views  in  India,  which  it  is  wonderful  could  have 
escaped  the  notice  and  reprehension  of  the  public.  Let  the 
reader  mark  well  what  follows. 

"  In  the  last  charter,  granted  in  1834,  a  clause  was  introduced, 
binding  a  secret  committee  of  the  East  India  Company,  consisting 


444  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

of  three  persons  only,  the  chairman,  deputy  chairman,  and  senior 
director,  who  are  solemnly  sworn  to  this  work,  to  receive  private 
despatches  from  the  Board  of  Control,  and  without  communi- 
cating them  to  a  single  individual  besides  themselves,  to  forward 
them  to  India,  where  the  receivers  are  bound,  without  question  or 
appeal,  to  enforce  their  immediate  execution.  By  this  inquisito- 
rial aystem,  this  worse  than  Spanish  or  Venetian  system  of  secret 
decrees,  government  has  reserved  to  itself  a  direction  of  the 
affairs  of  India,  freed  from  all  constitutional  or  representative 
check,  and  reduced  the  India  Company  to  a  mere  cat's-paw.  By 
the  sworn  secrecy  and  implicit  obedience  of  this  mysterious  tri- 
umvirate, the  Company  is  made  the  unconscious  instrument  of 
measures  most  hostile  to  its  own  views,  and  most  fatal  to  its  best 
interests.  It  may  at  any  hour  become  the  medium  of  a  secret 
order  which  may  threaten  the  very  destruction  of  its  empire. 
Such  was  the  case  with  the  war  of  Cabul.  The  aristocratic 
government  at  home  planned  and  ordered  it;  and  the  uncon- 
scious Company  was  made  at  once  to  carry  out  a  scheme  so 
atrocious,  so  wicked  and  unprincipled,  as  well  as  destructive  to 
its  plans  of  civil  economy,  and  to  bear  also  the  infamy  of  it. 
Awaking,  therefore,  to  the  tremendous  nature  of  the  secret  powers 
thus  introduced  into  their  machinery  by  government,  the  Com- 
pany determined  to  exercise  also  a  power  happily  intrusted  to 
them.  Hence  the  recall  of  Lord  Ellenborough,  who,  in  obedience 
to  aristocratic  views  at  home,  was  not  only  running  headlong 
over  all  their  plans  of  pacific  policy,  but  with  his  armies  and  ele- 
phants was  treading  under  foot  their  cotton  and  sugar  plantations. 
Hence,  on  the  other  hand,  the  favour  and  support  which  this 
warlike  lord  finds  with  the  great  martial  duke,  and  the  home 
government." 

The  policy  of  the  European  conquerors  of  India  was 
fully  illustrated  during  the  gubernatorial  term  of  War- 
ren Hastings,  Of  his  extortion  the  eloquent  Macaulay 
says — 


OF   ENGLAND.  445 

"  The  principle  which  directed  all  his  dealings  with  his  neigh- 
bours is  fully  expressed  by  the  old  motto  of  one  of  the  great 
predatory  families  of  Teviotdale — *  Thou  shalt  want  ere  I  want/ 
He  seems  to  have  laid  it  down,  as  a  fundamental  proposition 
which  could  not  be  disputed,  that  when  he  had  not  as  many  lacs 
of  rupees  as  the  public  service  required,  he  was  to  take  them  from 
anybody  who  had.  One  thing,  indeed,  is  to  be  said  in  excuse  for 
him.  The  pressure  applied  to  him  by  his  employers  at  home  was 
such  as  only  the  highest  virtue  could  have  withstood — such  as 
left  him  no  choice  except  to  commit  great  wrongs,  or  to  resign 
his  high  post,  and  with  that  post  all  his  hopes  of  fortune  and  dis- 
tinction. It  is  perfectly  true,  that  the  directors  never  enjoined 
or  applauded  any  crime.  Far  from  it.  Whoever  examines  their 
letters  at  that  time  will  find  there  many  just  and  humane  senti- 
ments, many  excellent  precepts  ;  in  short,  an  admirable  circle  of 
political  ethics.  But  every  exhortation  is  modified  or  annulled 
by  a  demand  for  money.  'Govern  leniently,  and  send  more 
money ;  practise  strict  justice  and  moderation  toward  neighbour- 
ing powers,  and  send  more  money ;'  this  is,  in  truth,  the  sum  of 
almost  all  the  instructions  that  Hastings  ever  received  from 
home.  Now  these  instructions,  being  interpreted,  mean  simply, 
'Be  the  father  and  the  oppressor  of  the  people;  be  just  and  un- 
just, moderate  and  rapacious/  The  directors  dealt  with  India 
as  the  church,  in  the  good  old  times,  dealt  with  a  heretic.  They 
delivered  the  victim  over  to  the  executioners,  with  an  earnest 
request  that  all  possible  tenderness  might  be  shown.  We  by  no 
means  accuse  or  suspect  those  who  framed  these  despatches  of 
hypocrisy.  It  is  probable  that,  writing  fifteen  thousand  miles 
from  the  place  where  their  orders  were  to  be  carried  into  effect, 
they  never  perceived  the  gross  inconsistency  of  which  they  were 
guilty.  But  the  inconsistency  was  at  once  manifest  to  their 
lieutenant  at  Calcutta,  who,  with  an  empty  treasury,  with  an  un- 
paid army,  with  his  own  salary  often  in  arrear,  with  deficient 
crops,  with  government  tenants  daily  running  away,  was  called 
upon  to  remit  home  another  half  million  without  fail.  Hastings 
saw  that  it  was  absolutely  necessary  for  him  to  disregard  either 
the  moral  discourses  or  the  pecuniary  requisitions  of  his  em- 
T 


446  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

ployers.  Being  forced  to  disobey  them  in  something,  he  had  to 
consider  what  kind  of  disobedience  they  would  most  readily  par- 
don ;  and  he  correctly  judged  that  the  safest  course  would  be  to 
neglect  the  sermons  and  to  find  the  rupees." 

How  were  the  rupees  found?  By  selling  provinces 
that  had  never  belonged  to  the  British  dominions ;  by 
the  destruction  of  the  brave  Rohillas  of  Rohilcund,  in 
the  support  of  the  cruel  tyrant,  Surajah  Dowlah,  sove- 
reign of  Oude,  of  which  terrible  act  Macaulay  says — 

"Then  the  horrors  of  Indian  war  were  let  loose  on  the  fair 
valleys  and  cities  of  Rohilcund ;  the  whole  country  was  in  a  blaze. 
More  than  a  hundred  thousand  people  fled  from  their  homes  to 
pestilential  jungles,  preferring  famine  and  fever  and  the  haunts 
of  tigers  to  the  tyranny  of  him  to  whom  an  English  and  a  Chris- 
tian government  had,  for  shameful  lucre,  sold  their  substance  and 
their  blood,  and  the  honour  of  their  wives  and  daughters.  Colonel 
Champion  remonstrated  with  the  Nabob  Vizier,  and  sent  strong 
representations  to  Fort  William ;  but  the  governor  had  made  no 
conditions  as  to  the  mode  in  which  the  war  was  to  be  carried  on. 
He  had  troubled  himself  about  nothing  but  his  forty  lacs ;  and, 
though  he  might  disapprove  of  Surajah  Dowlah' s  wanton  barbarity, 
he  did  not  think  himself  entitled  to  interfere,  except  by  offering 
advice.  This  delicacy  excites  the  admiration  of  the  reverend  bio- 
grapher. '  Mr.  Hastings/  he  says,  '  could  not  himself  dictate  to 
the  Nabob,  nor  permit  the  commander  of  the  Company's  troops 
to  dictate  how  the  war  was  to  be  carried  on/  No,  to  be  sure. 
Mr.  Hastings  had  only  to  put  down  by  main  force  the  brave  strug- 
gles of  innocent  men  fighting  for  their  liberty.  Their  military 
resistance  crushed,  his  duties  ended;  and  he  had  then  only  to 
fold  his  arms  and  look  on  while  their  villages  were  burned,  their 
children  butchered,  and  their  women  violated." 

By  such  a  course  of  action.  Warren  Hastings  made 
the  British  empire  in  India  pay.  By  such  means  did 


OF   ENGLAND.  447 

the  aristocrats,  of  whom  the  governor  was  the  tool, 
obtain  the  money  which  would  enable  them  to  live  in 
luxury. 


servants  of  the  Company  obtained  —  not  for  their  employ- 
ers, but  for  themselves  —  a  monopoly  of  almost  the  whole  internal 
trade;  they  forced  the  natives  to  buy  dear  and  sell  cheap;  they 
insulted  with  perfect  impunity  the  tribunals,  the  police,  and  the 
fiscal  authorities  of  the  country  ;  they  covered  with  their  protec- 
tion a  set  of  native  dependants,  who  ranged  through  the  provinces 
spreading  desolation  and  terror  wherever  they  appeared.  Every 
servant  of  a  British  factor  was  armed  with  all  the  power  of  his 
master,  and  his  master  was  armed  with  all  the  power  of  the  Com- 
pany. Enormous  fortunes  were  thus  rapidly  accumulated  at 
Calcutta,  while  thirty  millions  of  human  beings  were  reduced  to 
the  last  extremity  of  wretchedness.  They  had  been  accustomed 
to  live  under  tyranny,  but  never  under  tyranny  like  this  ;  they 
found  the  little  finger  of  the  Company  thicker  than  the  loins  of 
Surajah  Dowlah.  Under  their  old  masters  they  had  at  least  one 
resource;  when  the  evil  became  insupportable,  they  rose  and 
pulled  down  the  government.  But  the  English  government  was 
not  to  be  so  shaken  off.  That  government,  oppressive  as  the  most 
oppressive  form  of  barbarian  despotism,  was  strong  with  all  the 
strength  of  civilization  ;  it  resembled  the  government  of  evil  genii 
rather  than  the  government  of  human  tyrants/1  *  *  * 

"  The  foreign  lords  of  Bengal  were  naturally  objects  of  hatred 
to  all  the  neighbouring  powers,  and  to  all  the  haughty  race  pre- 
sented a  dauntless  front;  their  armies,  everywhere  outnumbered, 
were  everywhere  victorious.  A  succession  of  commanders,  formed 
in  the  school  of  Clive,  still  maintained  the  fame  of  their  country. 
'  It  must  be  acknowledged/  says  the  Mussulman  historian  cf  those 
times,  '  that  this  nation's  presence  of  mind,  firmness  of  tamper, 
and  undaunted  bravery  are  past  all  question.  They  join  the 
most  resolute  courage  to  the  most  cautious  prudence  ;  nor  have 
they  their  equal  in  the  art  of  ranging  themselves  in  battle  array 
and  fighting  in  order.  If  to  so  many  military  qualifications  they 
knew  how  to  join  the  arts  of  government—if  they  exerted  as  much 


448  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

ingenuity  and  solicitude  in  relieving  the  people  of  God  as  they 
do  in  whatever  concerns  their  military  affairs,  no  nation  in  the 
world  would  be  preferable  to  them  or  worthier  of  command ;  but 
the  people  under  their  dominion  groan  everywhere,  and  are  re- 
duced to  poverty  and  distress.  0  God!  come  to  the  assistance 
of  thine  afflicted  servants,  and  deliver  them  from  the  oppressions 
they  suffer/  " 

From  the  earliest  times  the  "village  system,"  with 
its  almost  patriarchal  regulations,  seems  to  have  pre- 
vailed in  Hindostan.  Each  village  had  its  distinct 
organization,  and  over  a  certain  number  of  villages,  or 
a  district,  was  an  hereditary  chief  and  an  accountant, 
both  possessing  great  local  influence  and  authority,  and 
certain  estates.*  The  Hindoos  were  strongly  attached 
to  their  native  villages,  and  could  only  be  forced  to 
abandon  them  by  the  most  constant  oppressions.  Dy- 
nasties might  change  and  revolutions  occur,  but  so  long 
as  each  little  community  remained  undisturbed,  the 
Hindoos  were  contented.  Mohammedan  conquerors  left 
this  beautiful  system,  which  had  much  more  of  genuine 
freedom  than  the  British  institutions  at  the  present  day, 
untouched.  The  English  conquerors  were  not  so  mer- 
ciful, although  they  were  acquainted  with  Christianity. 
The  destruction  of  local  organizations  and  the  central- 
ization of  authority,  which  is  always  attended  with  the 
increase  of  slavery,  f  have  been  the  aims  of  English 
efforts.  The  principle  that  the  government  is  the  sole 

*  Brigg's  Historical  Fragments.  f  Carey. 


OF   ENGLAND.  449 

proprietor  of  the  land,  and  therefore  entitled  to  a  large 
share  of  the  produce,  has  been  established,  and  slavery, 
to  escape  famine  and  misery,  has  become  necessary  to 
the  Hindoos. 

Exhaustion  was  the  result  of  the  excessive  taxation 
laid  upon  the  Hindoos  by  the  East  India  Company.  As 
the  government  became  stinted  for  revenue,  Lord  Corn- 
wallis  was  instructed  to  make  a  permanent  settlement, 
by  means  of  which  all  the  rights  of  village  proprietors 
over  a  large  portion  of  Bengal  were  sacrificed  in  favour 
of  the  Zemindars,  or  head  men,  who  were  thus  at  once 
constituted  great  landed  proprietors — masters  of  a  large 
number  of  poor  tenants,  with  power  to  punish  at  discre- 
tion those  who  were  not  able  to  pay  whatever  rent  was 
demanded.*  From  free  communities,  the  villages  were 
reduced  to  the  condition  of  British  tenants-at-will.  The 
Zemindaree  system  was  first  applied  to  Bengal.  In 
Madras  another  system,  called  the  Ryotwar,  was  intro- 
duced. This  struck  a  fatal  blow  at  the  local  organiza- 
tions, which  were  the  sources  of  freedom  and  happiness 
among  the  Hindoos.  Government  assumed  all  the 
functions  of  an  immediate  landholder,  and  dealt  with 
the  individual  cultivators  as  its  own  tenants,  getting  as 
much  out  of  them  as  possible. 

The  Zemindars  are  an  unthrifty,  rack-renting  class, 
and  take  the  uttermost  farthing  from  the  under-tenants. 

*  Caxey. 


450  THE  WHITE  SLAVES 

Oppressions  and  evictions  are  their  constant  employ- 
ments ;  and  since  they  have  been  constituted  a  landed 
aristocracy,  they  have  fully  acted  out  the  character  in 
the  genuine  British  fashion. 

Another  tenure,  called  thePatnee,  has  been  established 
of  late  years,  by  some  of  the  great  Zemindars,  with  the 
aid  of  government  enactments,  and  it  is  very  common  in 
Bengal.  The  great  Zemindar,  for  a  consideration,  makes 
over  a  portion  of  his  estate  in  fee  to  another,  subject  to 
a  perpetual  rent,  payable  through  the  collector,  who  re- 
ceives it  on  behalf  of  the  zemindar ;  and  if  it  is  not  paid, 
the  interests  of  the  patneedar  are  sold  by  the  collector. 
These,  again,  have  sub-patneedars,  and  the  system  has 
become  very  much  in  vogue  in  certain  districts.  The 
parties  are  like  the  Irish  middlemen,  and  the  last  screws 
the  tenant  to  the  uttermost.* 

During  the  British  government  of  Bengal,  wealth  has 
been  accumulated  by  .a  certain  superior  class,  and  popu- 
lation, cultivation,  and  the  receipts  from  rent  of  land, 
have  largely  increased ;  but,  as  in  England,  the  mass  of 
the  people  are  poor  and  degraded.  In  the  rich  provinces 
of  Upper  India,  where  the  miserable  landed  system  of 
the  conquerors  has  been  introduced,  the  results  have 
been  even  more  deplorable.  Communities,  once  free, 
happy,  and  possessed  of  plenty,  are  now  broken  up,  or 
subjected  to  such  excessive  taxation  that  their  members 
are  kept  in  poverty  and  slavery. 

*  Campbell's  Modern  India. 


OF  ENGLAND.  451 

Colonel  Sleeman,  in  his  "  Rambles  and  Recollections  of 
an  Indian  Official,"  records  a  conversation  which  he  held 
with  the  head  landholder  of  a  village,  organized  under 
the  Zemindar  system.  During  the  dialogue,  some  state- 
ments were  made  which  are  important  for  our  purpose. 

The  colonel  congratulated  himself  that  he  had  given 
satisfactory  replies  to  the  arguments  of  the  Zemindar, 
and  accounted  naturally  for  the  evils  suffered  by  the 
villagers.  The  reader  will,  doubtless,  form  a  different 
opinion : — 

"  In  the  early  part  of  November,  after  a  heavy  fall  of  rain,  I 
was  driving  alone  in  my  buggy  from  Garmuktesin  on  the  Ganges, 
to  Meerut.  The  roads  were  very  bad,  the  stage  a  double  one,  and 
my  horse  became  tired  and  unable  to  go  on.  I  got  out  at  a  small 
village  to  give  him  a  little  rest  and  food  ;  and  sat  down  under  the 
shade  of  one  old  tree  upon  the  trunk  of  another  that  the  storm 
had  blown  down,  while  my  groom,  the  only  servant  I  had  with  me, 
rubbed  down  and  baited  my  horse.  I  called  for  some  parched 
grain  from  the  same  shop  which  supplied  my  horse,  and  got  a 
draught  of  good  water,  drawn  from  the  well  by  an  old  woman,  in 
a  brass  jug  lent  to  me  for  the  purpose  by  the  shopkeeper. 

"  While  I  sat  contentedly  and  happily  stripping  my  parched 
grain  from  its  shell,  and  eating  it  grain  by  grain,  the  farmer,  or 
head  landholder  of  the  village,  a  sturdy  old  Rajpoot,  came  up  and 
sat  himself,  without  any  ceremony,  down  by  my  side,  to  have  a 
little  conversation .  [To  one  of  the  dignitaries  of  the  land,  in  whose 
presence  the  aristocracy  are  alone  considered  entitled  to  chairs, 
this  easy  familiarity  seems  at  first  strange  and  unaccountable ;  he  is 
afraid  that  the  man  intends  to  offer  him  some  indignity,  or  what  is 
still  worse,  mistakes  him  for  something  less  than  a  dignitary  1 
The  following  dialogue  took  place  : — ] 

" '  You  are  a  Rajpoot,  and  a  Zemindar  ?'  (landholder.) 

" '  Yes ;  I  am  the  head  landholder  of  this  village.' 


452  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

"  '  Can  you  tell  me  how  that  village  in  the  distance  is  elevated 
above  the  ground ;  is  it  from  the  debris  of  old  villages,  or  from  a 
rock  underneath  ?' 

"  '  It  is  from  the  debris  of  old  villages.  That  is  the  original  seat 
of  all  the  Rajpoots  around;  we  all  trace  our  descent  from  the 
founders  of  that  village,  who  built  and  peopled  it  many  centuries 
ago/ 

"  *  And  you  have  gone  on  subdividing  your  inheritances  here  as 
elsewhere,  no  doubt,  till  you  have  hardly  any  of  you  any  thing  to 
eat?' 

"  *  True,  we  have  hardly  any  of  us  enough  to  eat ;  but  that  is 
the  fault  of  the  government,  that  does  not  leave  us  enough — that 
takes  from  us  as  much  when  the  season  is  bad  as  when  it  is 
good !' " 

"  '  But  your  assessment  has  not  been  increased,  has  it?' 

"  '*  No ;  we  have  concluded  a  settlement  for  twenty  years  upon 
the  same  footing  as  formerly.' 

" '  And  if  the  sky  were  to  shower  down  upon  you  pearls  and 
diamonds,  instead  of  water,  the  government  would  never  demand 
more  from  you  than  the  rate  fixed  upon  ?' 

"'No/ 

"  '  Then  why  should  you  expect  remissions  in  bad  seasons  V 

"  *  It  cannot  be  disputed  that  the  burkut  (blessing  from  above) 
is  less  under  you  than  it  used  to  be  formerly,  and  that  the  lands 
yield  less  from  our  labour/ 

"  '  True,  my  old  friend,  but  do  you  know  the  reason  why  ?' 

"  '  No/ 

"  '  Then  I  will  tell  you.  Forty  or  fifty  years  ago,  in  what  you 
call  the  times  of  the  burkut,  (blessing  from  above,)  the  cavalry  of 
Seikh,  freebooters  from  the  Punjab,  used  to  sweep  over  this  fine 
plain,  in  which  stands  the  said  village  from  which  you  are  all  de- 
scended ;  and  to  massacre  the  whole  population  of  some  villages ; 
and  a  certain  portion  of  that  of  every  other  village;  and  the 
lands  of  those  killed  used  to  lie  waste  for  want  of  cultivators.  Is 
not  this  all  true  ?' 

"  '  Yes,  quite  true/ 

"  '  And  the  fine  groves  which  had  been  planted  over  this  plain 


OF   ENGLAND.  453 

by  your  ancestors,  as  they  separated  from  the  great  parent  stock, 
and  formed  independent  villages  and  hamlets  for  themselves, 
were  all  swept  away  and  destroyed  by  the  same  hordes  of  free- 
booters, from  whom  your  poor  imbecile  emperors,  cooped  up  in 
yonder  large  city  of  Delhi,  were  utterly  unable  to  defend  you  ?' 

"  '  Quite  true/  said  the  old  man  with  a  sigh.  *  I  remember 
when  all  this  fine  plain  was  as  thickly  studded  with  fine  groves 
of  mango-trees  as  Hohilcund,  or  any  other  part  of  India/ 

" '  You  know  that  the 'land  requires  rest  from  labour,  as  well  as 
men  and  bullocks  ;  and  that  if  you  go  on  sowing  wheat,  and  other 
exhausting  crops,  it  will  go  on  yielding  less  and  less  returns,  and 
at  last  not  be  worth  the  tilling  V 

"  *  Quite  well/ 

"  *  Then  why  do  you  not  give  the  land  rest  by  leaving  it  longer 
fallow,  or  by  a  more  frequent  alternation  of  crops  relieve  it  ?' 

"  *  Because  we  have  now  increased  so  much,  that  we  should  not 
get  enough  to  eat  were  we  to  leave  it  to  fallow ;  and  unless  we 
tilled  it  with  exhausting  crops  we  should  not  get  the  means  of  pay- 
ing our  rents  to  government/ 

" '  The  Seikh  hordes  in  former  days  prevented  this ;  they  killed 
off  a  certain  portion  of  your  families,  and  gave  the  land  the  rest 
which  you  now  refuse  it.  "When  you  had  exhausted  one  part,  you 
found  another  recovered  by  a  long  fallow,  so  that  you  had  better 
returns  ;  but  now  that  we  neither  kill  you,  nor  suffer  you  to  be 
killed  by  others,  you  have  brought  all  the  cultivable  lands  into 
tillage  ;  and  under  the  old  system  of  cropping  to  exhaustion,  it 
is  not  surprising  that  they  yield  you  less  returns/ 

"  By  this  time  we  had  a  crowd  of  people  seated  around  us  upon 
the  ground,  as  I  went  on  munching  my  parched  grain  and  talking 
to  the  old  patriarch.  They  all  laughed  at  the  old  man  at  the 
conclusion  of  my  last  speech,  and  he  confessed  I  was  right. 

"  '  This  is  all  true,  sir,  but  still  your  government  is  not  consi- 
derate; it  goes  on  taking  kingdom  after  kingdom  and  adding  to 
its  dominions,  without  diminishing  the  burden  upon  us  its  old  sub- 
jects. Here  you  have  had  armies  away  taking  Affghan.istan,  but 
we  shall  not  have  one  rupee  the  less  to  pay/ 

"  *  True,  my  friend,  nor  wouLJ.  you  demand  a  rupee  less  from 
T* 


454  THE  WHITE  SLAVES 

those  honest  cultivators  around  us,  if  we  were  to  leave  you  all 
your  lands  untaxed.  You  complain  of  the  government — they 
complain  of  you.  [Here  the  circle  around  us  laughed  at  the  old 
man  again.]  Nor  would  you  subdivide  the  lands  the  less  for 
having  it  rent  free ;  on  the  contrary,  it  would  be  every  generation 
subdivided  the  more,  inasmuch  as  there  would  be  more  of  local 
ties,  and  a  greater  disinclination  on  the  part  of  the  members  of 
families  to  separate  and  seek  service  abroad.' 

"  *  True,  sir,  very  true;  that  is,  no  doubt,  a  very  great  evil/ 

"  'And  you  know  it  is  not  an  evil  produced  by  us,  but  one 
arising  out  of  your  own  laws  of  inheritance.  You  have  heard, 
no  doubt,  that  with  us  the  eldest  son  gets  the  whole  of  the  land, 
and  the  younger  sons  all  go  out  in  search  of  service,  with  such 
share  as  they  can  get  of  the  other  property  of  their  father?' 

"  *  Yes,  sir;  but  where  shall  we  get  service — you  have  none  to 
give  us.  I  would  serve  to-morrow,  if  you  would  take  me  as  a 
soldier,'  said  he,  stroking  his  white  whiskers. 

"  The  crowd  laughed  heartily,  and  some  wag  observed,  '  that 
perhaps  I  should  think  him  too  old.' 

"  *  Well,'  said  the  old  man,  smiling,  «  the  gentleman  himself  is 
not  very  young,  and  yet  I  dare  say  he  is  a  good  servant  of  his 
government.' 

"  This  was  paying  me  off  for  making  the  people  laugh  at  his 
expense.  '  True,  my  old  friend,'  said  I,  *  but  I  began  to  serve 
when  I  was  young,  and  have  been  long  learning.' 

"  '  Very  well,'  said  the  old  man ;  '  but  I  should  be  glad  to  serve 
the  rest  of  my  life  upon  a  less  salary  than  you  got  when  you 
began  to  learn.' 

"  *  Well,  my  friend,  you  complain  of  our  government;  but  you 
must  acknowledge  that  we  do  all  we  can  to  protect  you,  though 
it  is  true  that  we  are  often  acting  in  the  dark.' 

"  'Often,  sir?  you  are  always  acting  in  the  dark;  you  hardly 
any  of  you  know  any  thing  of  what  your  revenue  and  police  offi- 
cers are  doing;  there  is  no  justice  or  redress  to  be  got  without 
paying  for  it;  and  it  is  not  often  that  those  who  pay  can  get  it.' 

"  '  True,  my  old  friend,  that  is  bad  all  over  the  world.  You 
cannot  presume  to  ask  any  thing  even  from  the  Deity  himself, 


OF   ENGLAND.  455 

without  paying  the  priest  who  officiates  in  his  temples ;  and  if 
you  should,  you  would  none  of  you  hope  to  get  from  your  deity 
what  you  asked  for/ 

"  Here  the  crowd  laughed  again,  and  one  of  them  said  *  that 
there  was  certainly  this  to  be  said  for  our  government,  that  the 
European  gentlemen  themselves  never  took  "bribes,  whatever  those 
under  them  might  do/ 

"  *  You  must  not  be  too  sure  of  that  neither.  Did  not  the  Lai 
Beebee  (red  lady)  get  a  bribe  for  soliciting  the  judge,  her  hus- 
band, to  let  go  Ameer  Sing,  who  had  been  confined  in  jail?' 

"  '  How  did  this  take  place?' 

"  'About  three  years  ago  Ameer  Sing  was  sentenced  to  impri- 
sonment, and  his  friends  spent  a  great  deal  of  money  in  bribes  to 
the  native  officers  of  the  court,  but  all  in  vain.  At  last  they  were 
recommended  to  give  a  handsome  present  to  the  red  lady.  They 
did  so,  and  Ameer  Sing  was  released/ 

"  *  But  did  they  give  the  present  into  the  lady's  own  hand?' 

"  *  No,  they  gave  it  to  one  of  her  women/ 

"  'And  how  do  you  know  that  she  ever  gave  it  to  her  mistress, 
or  that  her  mistress  ever  heard  of  the  transaction?' 

"  '  She  might  certainly  have  been  acting  without  her  mistress's 
knowledge;  but  the  popular  belief  is,  that  Lai  Beebee  got  the 
present/ 

"  I  then  told  them  the  story  of  the  affair  at  Jubbulpore,  when 
Mrs.  Smith's  name  had  been  used  for  a  similar  purpose,  and  the 
people  around  us  were  highly  amused;  and  the  old  man's  opinion 
of  the  transaction  evidently  underwent  a  change.* 

*  "  Some  of  Mr.  Smith's  servants  entered  into  a  combination  to 
defraud  a  suitor  in  his  court  of  a  large  sum  of  money,  which  he  was 
to  pay  to  Mrs.  Smith  as  she  walked  in  the  garden.  A  dancing-girl 
from  the  town  of  Jubbulpore  was  made  to  represent  Mrs.  Smith,  and 
a  suit  of  Mrs.  Smith's  clothes  were  borrowed  for  her  from  the  washer- 
woman. The  butler  took  the  suitor  into  the  garden  and  introduced 
him  to  the  supposed  Mrs.  Smith,  who  received  him  very  graciously, 
and  condescended  to  accept  his  offer  of  five  thousand  rupees  in  gold 
mohurs.  The  plot  was  afterward  discovered,  and  the  old  butler, 


456  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

"  We  became  good  friends,  and  the  old  man  begged  me  to  have 
my  tents,  which  he  supposed  were  coming  up,  pitched  among 
them,  that  he  might  have  an  opportunity  of  showing  that  he  was 
not  a  bad  subject,  though  he  grumbled  against  the  government. 

"The  next  day,  at  Meerut,  I  got  a  visit  from  the  chief  native 
judge,  whose  son,  a  talented  youth,  is  in  my  office.  Among  other 
things,  I  asked  him  whether  it  might  not  be  possible  to  improve 
the  character  of  the  police  by  increasing  the  salaries  of  the  of- 
ficers, and  mentioned  my  conversation  with  the  landholder. 

"  *  Never,  sir/  said  the  old  gentleman;  '  the  man  that  now  gets 
twenty-five  rupees  a  month,  is  contented  with  making  perhaps 
fifty  or  seventy-five  more;  and  the  people  subject  to  his  authority 
pay  him  accordingly.  Give  him  a  hundred,  sir,  and  he  will  put 
a  shawl  over  his  shoulders,  and  the  poor  people  will  be  obliged 
to  pay  him  at  a  rate  which  will  make  up  his  income  to  four  hun- 
dred. You  will  only  alter  his  style  of  living,  and  make  him  a 
greater  burden  to  the  people ;  he  will  always  take  as  long  as  he 
thinks  he  can  with  impunity/ 

"  '  But  do  you  not  think  that  when  people  see  a  man  adequately 
paid  by  government,  they  will  the  more  readily  complain  at  any 
attempt  at  unauthorized  exactions?' 

"  '  Not  a  bit,  sir,  as  long  as  they  see  the  same  difficulties  in  the 
way  of  prosecuting  them  to  conviction.  In  the  administration 
of  civil  justice  (the  old  gentleman  is  a  civil  judge)  you  may  occa- 
sionally see  your  way,  and  understand  what  is  doing;  but  in 
revenue  and  police  you  have  never  seen  it  in  India,  and  never 
will,  I  think.  The  officers  you  employ  will  all  add  to  their  in- 
comes by  unauthorized  means;  and  the  lower  their  incomes,  the 
less  their  pretensions,  and  the  less  the  populace  have  to  pay/  ;J 

In  the  "History  .  f  the  Possessions  of  the  Honourable 
East  India  Company/'  by  R.  Montgomery  Martin,  F.  S. 
S.,  the  following  statements  occur : — 


washerwoman  and  all,  were  sentenced  to  labour  in  a  rope  on  the 
roads." 


OF   ENGLAND  457 

"  The  following  estimate  has  been  made  of  the  population  of  the 
allied  and  independent  states : — Hydrabad,  10,000,000 ;  Oude, 
6,000,000;  Nagpoor,  3,000,000;  Mysore,  3,000,000;  Sattara, 
1,500,000;  Gurckwar,  2,000,000;  Travancore  and  Cochin,  1,000,000; 
Bajpootana,  and  various  miner  principalities,  16,500,000 ;  Scin- 
dias  territories,  4,000,000 ;  the  Seiks,  3,000,000 ;  Nepal,  2,000,000; 
Cashmere,  etc.,  1,000,000 ;  Scinde,  1,000,000 ;  total,  51,000,000. 
This,  of  course,  is  but  a  rough  estimate  by  Hamilton,  ( Slavery  in 
British  India.)  For  the  last  forty  years  the  East  India  Company's 
government  have  been  gradually,  but  safely,  abolishing  slavery 
throughout  their  dominions;  they  began  in  1789  with  putting 
down  the  maritime  traffic,  by  prosecuting  any  person  caught  in 
exporting  or  importing  slaves  by  sea,  long  before  the  British  go- 
vernment abolished  that  infernal  commerce  in  the  Western  world, 
and  they  have  ever  since  sedulously  sought  the  final  extinction  of 
that  domestic  servitude  which  had  long  existed  throughout  the 
East,  as  recognised  by  the  Hindoo  and  Mohammedan  law.  In 
their  despatches  of  1798,  it  was  termed  'an  inhuman  commerce 
and  cruel  traffic.'  French,  Dutch,  or  Danish  subjects  captured 
within  the  limit  of  their  dominions  in  the  act  of  purchasing  or 
conveying  slaves  were  imprisoned  and  heavily  fined,  and  every 
encouragement  was  given  to  their  civil  and  military  servants  to 
aid  in  protecting  the  first  rights  of  humanity. 

"  Mr.  Robertson,*  in  reference  to  Cawnpore,  observes : — *  Do- 
mestic slavery  exists  ;  but  of  an  agricultural  slave  I  do  not  recol- 
lect a  single  instance.  When  I  speak  of  domestic  slavery,  I  mean 
that  status  which  I  must  call  slavery  for  want  of  any  more  accu- 
rate designation.  It  does  not,  however,  resemble  that  which  is 
understood  in  Europe  to  be  slavery ;  it  is  the  mildest  species  of 
servitude.  The  domestic  slaves  are  certain  persons  purchased  in 
times  of  scarcity ;  children  purchased  from  their  parents ;  they 
ftrow  up  in  the  family,  and  are  almost  entirely  employed  in  do- 
mestic offices  in  the  house ;  not  liable  to  be  resold. 

" '  There  is  a  certain  species  of  slavery  in  South  Bahar,  where 


*  Lords'  Evidence,  1687. 

30 


458  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

a  man  mortgages  his  labour  for  a  certain  sum  of  money ;  and  this 
species  of  slavery  exists  also  in  Arracan  and  Ava.  It  is  for  his 
life,  or  until  he  shall  pay  the  sum,  that  he  is  obliged  to  labour  for 
the  person  who  lends  him  the  money ;  and  if  he  can  repay  the 
Bum,  he  emancipates  himself. 

"'  Masters  have  no  power  of  punishment  recognised  by  our 
laws.  Whatever  may  be  the  provision  of  the  Mohammedan  or  Hin- 
doo codes  to  that  effect,  it  is  a  dead  letter,  for  we  would  not  re- 
cognise it.  The  master  doubtless  may  sometimes  inflict  domestic 
punishment ;  but  if  he  does,  the  slave  rarely  thinks  of  complain- 
ing of  it.  Were  he  to  do  so  his  complaint  would  be  received/ 
This,  in  fact,  is  the  palladium  of  liberty  in  England. 

"  In  Malabar,  according  to  the  evidence  of  Mr.  Baber,  slavery, 
as  mentioned  by  Mr.  Robertson,  also  exists,  and  perhaps  the  same 
is  the  case  in  Guzerat  and  to  the  north ;  but  the  wonder  is,  not 
that  such  is  the  case,  but  that  it  is  so  partial  in  extent,  and  fortu- 
nately so  bad  in  character,  approximating  indeed  so  much  toward 
the  feudal  state  as  to  be  almost  beyond  the  reach  as  well  as  the 
necessity  of  laws  which  at  present  would  be  practically  inopera- 
tive. The  fact,  that  of  100,000,000  British  inhabitants,  [or  allow- 
ing five  to  a  family,  20,000,000  families,]  upward  of  16,000,000 
are  landed  proprietors,  shows  to  what  a  confined  extent  even  do- 
mestic slavery  exists.  A  commission  has  been  appointed  by  the 
new  charter  to  inquire  into  this  important  but  delicate  subject/  " 


We  have  quoted  this  passage  from  a  writer  who  is  a 
determined  advocate  of  every  thing  British,  whether  it 
be  good  or  bad,  in  order  to  show  by  his  own  admission 
that  chattel  slavery,  that  is  the  precise  form  of  slavery 
of  which  the  British  express  such  a  holy  horror,  exists 
in  British  Iniia  under  the  sanction  of  British  laws. 
Nor  does  it  vxist  to  a  small  extent  only,  as  he  would 
have  us  belike.  It  has  always  existed  there,  and  must 
necessarily  be  on  the  increase,  from  the  very  cause 


OF  ENGLAND.  459 

which  he  points  out,  viz.  famine.  No  country  in  the 
•world,  thanks  to  British  oppression,  is  so  frequently 
and  so  extensively  visited  by  famine  as  India ;  and  as 
the  natives  can  escape  in  many  instances  from  starving 
to  death  by  selling  themselves,  and  can  save  their  chil- 
dren by  selling  them  into  slavery,  we  can  readily  form 
an  estimate  of  the  great  extent  to  which  this  takes 
place  in  cases  of  famine,  where  the  people  are  perish- 
ing by  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands.  As  to  the 
statement  that  the  government  of  the  East  India  Com- 
pany have  been  endeavouring  to  abolish  this  species  of 
slavery,  it  proves  any  thing  rather  than  a  desire  to 
benefit  the  natives  of  India.  Chattel  slaves  are  not 
desired  by  British  subjects  because  the  ownership  of 
them  involves  the  necessity  of  supporting  them  in  sick- 
ness and  old  age.  The  kind  of  slavery  which  the 
British  have  imposed  on  the  great  mass  of  their  East 
Indian  subjects  is  infinitely  more  oppressive  and  inhu- 
man than  chattel  slavery.  Indeed  it  would  not  at  all 
suit  the  views  of  the  British  aristocracy  to  have  chattel 
slavery  become  so  fashionable  in  India  as  to  interfere 
with  their  own  cherished  system  of  political  slavery, 
which  is  so  extensively  and  successfully  practised  in 
England,  Scotland,  Ireland,  and  the  West  and  East 
Indies.  The  money  required  for  the  support  of  chattel 
slaves  could  not  be  spared  by  the  aristocratic  govern- 
ments in  the  colonies.  The  object  is  to  take  the  fruits 
of  the  labourer's  toil  without  providing  for  him  at  all. 


460  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

When  labourers  are  part  of  a  master's  capital,  the 
better  he  provides  for  them  the  more  they  are  worth. 
When  they  are  not  property,  the  character  of  their  sub- 
sistence is  of  no  importance ;  but  they  must  yield  the 
greater  part  of  the  results  of  their  toil. 

The  "salt  laws"  of  India  are  outrageously  oppres- 
sive. An  account  of  their  operation  will  give  the 
reader  a  taste  of  the  character  of  the  legislation  to 
which  the  British  have  subjected  conquered  Hindoos. 
Such  an  account  we  find  in  a  recent  number  of 
«  Household  Words,"  which  Lord  Shaftesbury  and  his 
associates  in  luxury  and  philanthropy  should  read  more 
frequently  than  we  can  suppose  they  do : — 

"  Salt,  in  India,  is  a  government  monopoly.  It  is  partially  im- 
ported, and  partially  manufactured  in  government  factories. 
These  factories  are  situated  in  dreary  marshes — the  workers  ob- 
taining certain  equivocal  privileges,  on  condition  of  following 
their  occupation  in  these  pestiferous  regions,  where  hundreds  of 
these  wretched  people  fall,  annually,  victims  to  the  plague  or  the 
floods. 

"  The  salt  consumed  in  India  must  be  purchased  through  the 
government,  at  a  duty  of  upward  of  two  pounds  per  ton,  making 
the  price  to  the  consumer  about  eight  pence  per  pound.  In  Eng- 
land, salt  may  be  purchased  by  retail,  three  pounds,  or  wholesale, 
five  pounds  for  one  penny;  while  in  India,  upward  of  thirty 
millions  of  persons,  whose  average  incomes  do  not  amount  to 
above  three  shillings  per  week,  are  compelled  to  expend  one- 
fourth  of  that  pittance  in  salt  for  themselves  and  families. 

"  It  may  naturally  be  inferred,  that,  with  such  a  heavy  duty 
upon  this  important  necessary  of  life,  that  underhand  measures 
are  adopted  by  the  poor  natives  for  supplying  themselves.  We 
shall  see,  however,  by  the  following  severe  regulations,  that  the 


OF  ENGLAND.  461 

experiment  is  too  hazardous  to  be  often  attempted.  Throughout 
the  whole  country  there  are  numerous  '  salt  chokies/  or  police 
stations,  the  superintendents  of  which  are  invested  with  powers 
of  startling  and  extraordinary  magnitude. 

"  When  information  is  lodged  with  such  superintendent  that 
salt  is  stored  in  any  place  without  a  '  ruwana,'  or  permit,  he  pro- 
ceeds to  collect  particulars  of  the  description  of  the  article,  the 
quantity  stated  to.  be  stored,  and  the  name  of  the  owner  of  the 
store.  If  the  quantity  stated  to  be  stored  exceeds  seventy 
pounds,  he  proceeds  with  a  body  of  police  to  make  the  seizure, 
If  the  door  is  not  opened  to  him  at  once,  he  is  invested  with  full 
power  to  break  it  open  ;  and  if  the  police-officers  exhibit  the  leas.t 
backwardness  in  assisting,  or  show  any  sympathy  with  the  un- 
fortunate owner,  they  are  liable  to  be  heavily  fined.  The  owner 
of  the  salt,  with  all  persons  found  upon  the  premises,  are  im- 
mediately apprehended,  and  are  liable  to  six  months'  imprison- 
ment for  the  first  offence,  twelve  for  the  second,  and  eighteen 
months  for  the  third ;  so  that  if  a  poor  Indian  was  to  see  a  shower 
of  salt  in  his  garden,  (there  are  showers  of  salt  sometimes,)  and 
to  attempt  to  take  advantage  of  it  without  paying  duty,  he  would 
become  liable  to  this  heavy  punishment.  The  superintendent  of 
police  is  also  empowered  to  detain  and  search  trading  vessels, 
and  if  salt  be  found  on  board  without  a  permit,  the  whole  of  the 
crew  may  be  apprehended  and  tried  for  the  offence.  Any  person 
erecting  a  distilling  apparatus  in  his  own  house,  merely  to  distil 
enough  sea-water  for  the  use  of  his  household,  is  liable  to  such  a 
fine  as  may  ruin  him.  In  this  case,  direct  proof  is  not  required, 
but  inferred  from  circumstances  at  the  discretion  of  the  judge. 

"  If  a  person  wishes  to  erect  a  factory  upon  his  own  estate,  he 
must  first  give  notice  to  the  collector  of  revenue  of  all  the  par- 
ticulars relative  thereto,  failing  which,  the  collector  may  order 
all  the  works  to  be  destroyed.  Having  given  notice,  officers  are 
immediately  quartered  upon  the  premises,  who  have  access  to  all 
parts  thereof,  for  fear  the  company  should  be  defrauded  of  the 
smallest  amount  of  duty.  When  duty  is  paid  upon  any  portion, 
the  collector,  upon  giving  a  receipt,  specifies  the  name  and  resi- 
dence of  the  person  to  whom  it  is  to  be  delivered,  to  whom  it 


462  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

must  be  delivered  within  a  stated  period,  or  become  liable  to 
fresh  duty.  To  wind  up,  and  make  assurance  doubly  sure,  the 
police  may  seize  and  detain  any  load  or  package  which  may  pass 
the  stations,  till  they  are  satisfied  such  load  or  package  does  not 
contain  contraband  salt. 

"  Such  are  the  salt  laws  of  India ;  such  the  monopoly  by  which 
a  revenue  of  three  millions  sterling  is  raised ;  and  such  the  sys- 
tem which,  in  these  days  of  progress  and  improvement,  acts  as  an 
incubus  upon  the  energies,  the  mental  resources,  and  social  ad- 
vancement of  the  immense  population  of  India. 

"  Political  economists  of  all  shades  of  opinion — men  who  have 
well  studied  the  subject — deliberately  assert  that  nothing  would 
tend  so  much  toward  the  improvement  Of  that  country,  and  to  a 
more  complete  development  of  its  vast  natural  resources,  than 
the  abolition  of  these  laws ;  and  we  can  only  hope,  without 
blaming  any  one,  that  at  no  distant  day  a  more  enlightened 
policy  will  pervade  the  councils  of  the  East  India  Company,  and 
that  the  poor  Hindoo  will  be  emancipated  from  the  thraldom  of 
these  odious  enactments. 

"But  apart  from  every  other  consideration,  there  is  one,  in 
connection  with  the  Indian  salt-tax,  which  touches  the  domestic 
happiness  and  vital  interest  of  every  inhabitant  in  Great  Britain. 
It  is  decided,  by  incontrovertible  medical  testimony,  that  cholera 
(whose  ravages  every  individual  among  us  knows  something, 
alas !  too  well  about)  is  in  a  great  measure  engendered,  and  its 
progress  facilitated,  by  the  prohibitory  duties  on  salt  in  India, 
the  very  cradle  of  the  pestilence.  Our  precautionary  measures 
to  turn  aside  the  plague  from  our  doors,  appear  to  be  somewhat 
ridiculous,  while  the  plague  itself  is  suffered  to  exist,  when  ifc 
might  be  destroyed — its  existence  being  tolerated  only  to  adminis- 
ter to  the  pecuniary  advantage  of  a  certain  small  class  of  the 
community.  Let  the  medical  men  of  this  country  look  to  it. 
Let  the  people  of  this  country  generally  look  to  it ;  for  there  is 
matter  for  grave  and  solemn  consideration,  both  nationally  and 
individually,  in  the  Indian  salt-tax/' 

Yes,  the  salt-tax  is  very  oppressive;    but  it  pays 


OF  ENGLAND.  463 

those  who  authorized  its  assessment,  and  that  is 
sufficient  for  them.  When  they  discover  some  means 
of  obtaining  its  equivalent — some  oppression  quite  as 
cruel  but  not  so  obvious — we  may  expect  to  hear  of 
the  abolition  of  the  odious  salt  monopoly. 

Famines  (always  frightfully  destructive  in  India) 
have  become  more  numerous  than  ever,  under  the 
blighting  rule  of  the  British  aristocrats.  Vast  tracts 
of  country,  once  the  support  of  busy  thousands,  have 
been  depopulated  by  these  dreadful  visitations* 

"  The  soil  seems  to  lie  under  a  eurse.  Instead  of  yielding 
abundance  for  the  wants  of  its  own  population  and  the  inhabit- 
ants of  other  regions,  it  does  not  keep  in  existence  its  own  chil- 
dren. It  becomes  the  burying-place  of  millions  who  die  upon  its 
bosom  crying  for  bread.  In  proof  of  this,  turn  your  eyes  back- 
ward upon  the  scenes  of  the  past  year.  Go  with  me  into  the 
North-west  provinces  of  the  Bengal  presidency,  and  I  will  show 
you  the  bleaching  skeletons  of  five  hundred  thousand  human 
beings,  who  perished .  of  hunger  in  the  space  of  a  few  short 
months.  Yes,  died  of  hunger,  in  what  has  been  justly  called  the 
granary  of  the  world.  Bear  with  me,  if  I  speak  of  the  scenes 
which  were  exhibited  during  the  prevalence  of  this  famine.  The 
air  for  miles  was  poisoned  by  the  effluvia  emitted  from  the  pu- 
trefying bodies  of  the  dead,  The  rivers  were  choked  with  the 
corpses  thrown  into  their  channels.  Mothers  cast  their  little  ones 
beneath  the  rolling  waves,  because  they  would  not  see  them  draw 
their  last  gasp  and  feel  them  stiffen  in  their  arms.  The  English 
in  the  cities  were  prevented  from  taking  their  customary  evening 
drives.  Jackals  and  vultures  approached,  and  fastened  upon  the 
bodies  of  men,  women,  and  children  before  life  was  extinct. 
Madness,  disease,  despair  stalked  abroad,  and  no  human  power 
present  to  arrest  their  progress.  It  was  the  carnival  of  death. 
And  this  occurred  in  British  India — in  the  reign  of  Victoria  the 


464  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

First.  Nor  was  the  event  extraordinary  and  unforeseen.  Far 
from  it :  1835-36  witnessed  a  famine  in  the  Northern  provinces ; 
1833  beheld  one  to  the  eastward;  1822-23  saw  one  in  the 
Deccan." 

The  above  extract  from  one  of  George  Thompson's 
«  Lectures  on  India,"  conveys  an  idea  of  the  horrors 
of  a  famine  in  that  country.  What  then  must  be  the 
guilt  of  that,  government  that  adopts  such  measures  as 
tend  to  increase  the  frequency  and  swell  the  horror  of 
these  scenes  !  By  draining  the  resources  of  the  people, 
and  dooming  them  to  the  most  pinching  poverty,  the 
British  conquerors  have  greatly  increased  the  dangers 
'of  the  visitations  of  famine,  and  opened  to  it  a  wide  field 
for  destruction.  The  poor  Hindoos  may  be  said  to  live 
face  to  face  with  starvation.  The  following  account  of 
the  famine  of  1833  is  given  by  Colonel  Sleeman,  in 
his  "  Eambles  and  Kecollections  :" — 

"  During  the  famine  of  1833,  as  on  all  similar  occasions,  grain 
of  every  kind,  attracted  by  high  prices,  flowed  up  in  large  streams 
from  this  favoured  province  (Malwa)  toward  Bundelcund;  and 
the  population  of  Bundelcund,  as  usual  in  such  times  of  dearth  and 
scarcity,  flowed  off  toward  Malwa  against  the  stream  of  supply, 
under  the  assurance  that  the  nearer  they  got  to  the  source  the 
greater  would  be  their  chance  of  employment  and  subsistence. 
Every  village  had  its  numbers  of  the  dead  and  the  dying ;  and  the 
roads  were  all  strewed  with  them  ;  but  they  were  mostly  concen- 
trated upon  the  great  towns,  and  civil  and  military  stations,  where 
subscriptions  were  open  for  their  support  by  both  the  European 
and  native  communities.  The  funds  arising  from  these  subscrip- 
tions lasted  till  the  rain  had  fairly  set  in,  when  all  able-bodied 
persons  could  easily  find  employment  in  tillage  among  the  agri- 


OF  ENGLAND.  465 

cultural  communities  of  the  villages  around.  After  the  rains  have 
fairly  set  in,  the  sick  and  helpless  only  should  be  kept  concentrated 
upon  large  towns  and  stations,  where  little  or  no  employment  is 
to  be  found ;  for  the  oldest  and  youngest  of  those  who  are  able  to 
work  can  then  easily  find  employment  in  weeding  the  cotton,  rice, 
sugar-cane,  and  other  fields  under  autumn  crops,  and  in  preparing 
the  land  for  the  reception  of  the  wheat,  grain,  and  other  spring 
seeds  ;  and  get  advances  from  the  farmers,  agricultural  capitalists, 
and  other  members  of  the  village  communities,  who  are  all  glad  to 
share  their  superfluities  with  the  distressed,  and  to  pay  liberally 
for  the  little  service  they  are  able  to  give  in  return. 

"  At  large  places,  where  the  greater  numbers  are  concentrated, 
the  scene  becomes  exceedingly  distressing,  for  in  spite  of  the  best 
dispositions  and  greatest  efforts  on  the  part  of  government  and  its 
officers,  and  the  European  and  native  communities,  thousands 
commonly  die  of  starvation.  At  Saugor,  mothers,  as  they  lay  in 
the  streets  unable  to  walk,  were  seen  holding  up  their  infants,  and 
imploring  the  passing  stranger  to  take  them  in  slavery,  that  they 
might  at  least  live — hundreds  were  seen  creeping  into  gardens, 
courtyards,  and  old  ruins,  concealing  themselves  under  shrubs, 
grass,  mats,  or  straw,  where  they  might  die  quietly,  without  having 
their  bodies  torn  by  birds  and  beasts  before  the  breath  had  left 
them !  Respectable  families,  who  left  home  in  search  of  the 
favoured  land  of  Malwa,  while  yet  a  little  property  remained, 
finding  all  exhausted,  took  opium  rather  than  beg,  and  husband, 
wife,  and  children  died  in  each  other's  arms  !  Still  more  of  such 
families  lingered  on  in  hope  until  all  had  been  expended ;  then 
shut  their  doors,  took  poison,  and  died  all  together,  rather  than  ex- 
pose their  misery,  and  submit  to  the  degradation  of  begging.  All 
these  things  I  have  myself  known  and  seen  ;  and  in  the  midst  of 
these  and  a  hundred  other  harrowing  scenes  which  present  them- 
selves on  such  occasions,  the  European  cannot  fail  to  remark  the 
patient  resignation  with  which  the  poor  people  submit  to  their  fate ; 
and  the  absence  of  almost  all  those  revolting  acts  which  have 
characterized  the  famines  of  which  he  has  read  in  other  countries — 
such  as  the  living  feeding  on  the  dead,  and  mothers  devouring  their 
own  children.  No  such  things  are  witnessed  in  Indian  famines ; 


466  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

here  all  who  suffer  attribute  the  disaster  to  its  real  cause,  the  want 
of  rain  in  due  season ;  and  indulge  in  no  feelings  of  hatred  against 
their  rulers,  superiors,  or  more  fortunate  equals  in  society,  who 
happen  to  live  beyond  the  influence  of  such  calamities.  They 
gratefully  receive  the  superfluities  which  the  more  favoured  are 
always  found  ready  to  share  with  the  afflicted  in  India ;  and 
though  their  sufferings  often  subdue  the  strongest  of  all  pride — 
the  pride  of  caste,  they  rarely  ever  drive  people  to  acts  of  violence. 
The  stream  of  emigration,  guided  as  it  always  is  by  that  of  the 
agricultural  produce  flowing  in  from  the  more  favoured  countries, 
must  necessarily  concentrate  upon  the  communities  along  the  line 
it  takes  a  greater  number  of  people  than  they  have  the  means  of 
relieving,  however  benevolent  their  dispositions  ;  and  I  must  say, 
that  I  have  never  either  seen  or  read  of  a  nobler  spirit  than  seems 
to  animate  all  classes  of  these  communities  in  India  on  such  dis- 
tressing occasions." 

The  same  writer  has  some  judicious  general  remarks 
upon  the  causes  of  famine  in  India,  which  are  worthy 
of  quotation.  We  have  only  to  add,  that  whatever 
may  be  found  in  the  climate  and  character  of  the 
country  that  expose  the  people  to  the  frequency  of 
want,  the  conquerors  have  done  their  best  to  aggravate 
natural  evils : — 

"  In  India,  unfavourable  seasons  produce  much  more  disastrous 
consequences  than  in  Europe.  In  England,  not  more  than  one- 
fourth  of  the  population  derive  their  incomes  from  the  cultivation 
of  the  land  around  them.  Three-fourths  of  the  people  have  incomes, 
independent  of  the  annual  returns  from  those  lands ;  and  with 
these  incomes  they  can  purchase  agricultural  produce  from  other 
lands  when  the  crops  upon  them  fail.  The  farmers,  who  form  so 
large  a  portion  of  the  fourth  class,  have  stock  equal  in  value  to 
four  times  the  amount  of  the  annual  rent  of  their  lands.  They  have 
also  a  great  variety  of  crops ;  and  it  is  very  rare  that  more  than 


OF   ENGLAND.  46T 

one  or  two  of  them  fail,  or  are  considerably  affected,  the  same 
season.  If  they  fail  in  one  district  or  province,  the  deficiency  is 
very  easily  supplied  to  people  who  have  equivalents  to  give  for 
the  produce  of  another.  The  sea,  navigable  rivers,  fine  roads,  all 
are  open  and  ready  at  all  times  for  the  transport  of  the  super- 
abundance of  one  quarter  to  supply  the  deficiencies  of  another. 
In  India  the  reverse  of  all  this  is  unhappily  everywhere  to  be 
found ;  more  than  three- fourths  of  the  whole  population  are  en- 
gaged in  the  cultivation  of  the  land,  and  depend  upon  its  annual 
returns  for  subsistence.  The  farmers  and  cultivators  have  none 
of  them  stock  equal  in  value  to  more  than  half  Hie  amount  of  the 
annual  rents  of  their  lands.  They  have  a  great  variety  of  crops ; 
but  all  are  exposed  to  the  same  accidents,  and  commonly  fail  at 
the  same  time.  The  autumn  crops  are  sown  in  June  and  July, 
and  ripen  in  October  and  November ;  and  if  seasonable  showers 
do  not  fall  in  July,  August,  and  September,  all  fail.  The  spring 
crops  are  sown  in  October  and  November,  and  ripen  in  March ; 
and  if  seasonable  showers  do  not  happen  to  fall  during  December 
or  January,  all,  save  what  are  artificially  irrigated,  fail.  If  they 
fail  in  one  district  or  province,  the  people  have  few  equivalents  to 
offer  for  a  supply  of  land  produce  from  any  other.  Their  roads 
are  scarcely  anywhere  passable  for  wheeled  carriages  at  any  sear 
son,  and  nowhere  at  all  seasons — they  have  nowhere  a  navigable 
canal,  and  only  in  one  line  a  navigable  river.  Their  land  produce 
is  conveyed  upon  the  backs  of  bullocks,  that  move  at  the  rate  of 
six  or  eight  miles  a  day,  and  add  one  hundred  per  cent,  to  the 
cost  for  every  hundred  miles  they  carry  it  in  the  best  seasons,  and 
more  than  two  hundred  in  the  worst.  What  in  Europe  is  felt 
merely  as  a  dearth,  becomes  in  India,  under  all  these  disadvan- 
tages, a  scarcity ;  and  what  is  there  a  scarcity  becomes  here  a 
famine." 

Another  illustration  of  the  truth  that  poverty  is  the 
source  of  crime  and  depravity  is  found  in  India.  Sta- 
tistics and  the  evidence  of  recent  travellers  show  that 
the  amount  of  vice  in  the  different  provinces  is  just  in 


QW 


468  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

proportion  to  the  length  of  time  they  have  been  under 
British  rule.  No  stronger  proof  of  the  iniquity  of  the 
government — of  its  poisonous  tendencies  as  well  as 
positive  injustice — could  be  adduced. 

The  cultivation  and  exportation  of  the  pernicious 
drug,  opium,  which  destroys  hundreds  of  thousands  of 
lives  annually,  have  latterly  been  prominent  objects  of 
the  East  Indian  government.  The  best  tracts  of  land 
in  India  were  chosen  for  the  cultivation  of  the  poppy. 
The  people  were  told  that  they  must  either  raise  this 
plant,  make  opium,  or  give  up  their  land.  Further- 
more, those  who  produced  the  drug  were  compelled  to 
sell  it  to  the  Company.  In  the  Bengal  Presidency,  the 
monopoly  of  the  government  is  complete.  It  has  its 
establishment  for  the  manufacture  of  the  drug.  There 
are  two  great  agencies  at  Ghazeepore  and  Patna,  for 
the  Benares  and  Bahar  provinces.  Each  opium  agent 
has  several  deputies  in  different  districts,  and  a  native 
establishment.  They  enter  into  contracts  with  the  cul- 
tivator for  the  supply  of  opium  at  a  rate  fixed  to  suit 
the  demand.  The  land-revenue  authorities  do  not  in- 
terfere, except  to  prevent  cultivation  without  permis- 
sion. The  land  cultivated  is  measured,  and  all  the 
produce  must  be  sold  to  the  government.  At  the  head 
agency  the  opium  is  packed  in  chests  and  sealed  with 
the  Company's  seal.* 

*  Campbell's  Modern  India. 


OF   ENGLAND.  469 

The  imperial  government  of  China,  seeing  that  the 
traffic  in  opium  was  sowing  misery  and  death  among  its 
subjects,  prohibited  the  introduction  of  the  drug  within 
the  empire  in  1839.  But  the  British  had  a  vast  amount 
of  capital  at  stake,  and  the  profits  of  the  trade  were  too 
great  to  be  relinquished  for  any  considerations  of  hu- 
manity. War  was  declared ;  thousands  of  Chinese  were 
slaughtered,  and  the  imperial  government  forced  to 
permit  the  destructive  traffic  on  a  more  extensive  scale 
than  ever,  and  to  pay  $2,000,000  besides  for  daring  to 
protest  against  it ! 

The  annual  revenue  now  realized  from  the  opium 
traffic  amounts  to  £3,500,000.  It  is  estimated  that 
about  400,000  Chinese  perish  every  year  in  conse- 
quence of  using  the  destructive  drug,-  while  the  amount 
of  individual  and  social  misery  proceeding  from  the 
same  cause  is  appalling  to  every  humane  heart.  Among 
the  people  of  India  who  have  been  forced  into  the  culti- 
vation and  manufacture  of  opium,  the  use  of  it  has 
greatly  increased  under  the  fostering  care  of  the  govern- 
ment. The  Company  seems  to  be  aware  that  a  people 
enervated  by  excessive  indulgence  will  make  little  effort 
to  throw  off  the  chains  of  slavery.  Keep  the  Hindoo 
drunk  with  opium  and  he  will  not  rebel. 

The  effects  of  this  drug  upon  the  consumer  are  thus 
described  by  a  distinguished  Chinese  scholar : — "  It 
exhausts  the  animal  spirits,  impedes  the  regular  per- 
formance of  business,  wastes  the  the  flesh  and  blood, 
U 


470  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

dissipates  every  kind  of  property,  renders  the  person 
ill-favoured,  promotes  obscenity,  discloses  secrets,  vio- 
lates the  laws,  attacks  the  vitals,  and  destroys  life." 
This  statement  is  confirmed  by  other  natives,  and  also 
by  foreign  residents;  and  it  is  asserted  that,  as  a 
general  rule,  a  person  does  not  live  more  than  ten  years 
after  becoming  addicted  to  the  use  of  this  drug. 

The  recent  Burmese  war  had  for  one  of  its  objects 
the  opening  of  a  road  to  the  interior  of  China,  for  the 
purpose  of  extending  the  opium  trade.  And  for  such 
an  object  thousands  of  brave  Burmese  were  slaughtered, 
fertile  and  beautiful  regions  desolated,  and  others  sub- 
jected to  the  peculiar  slave-system  of  the  East  India 
Company.  The  extension  of  British  dominion  and  the 
accumulation  of  wealth  in  British  hands,  instead  of  the 
spread  of  Christianity  and  the  development  of  civiliza- 
tion, mark  all  the  measures  of  the  Company. 

William  Howitt,  one  of  the  ablest  as  well  as  the  most 
democratic  writers  of  England,  thus  confirms  the  state- 
ments made  above : — 


"  The  East  India  Company  exists  by  monopolies  of  the  land,  of 
opium,  and  of  salt.  By  their  narrow,  greedy,  and  purblind  ma- 
nagement of  these  resources,  they  have  contrived  to  reduce  that 
once  affluent  country  to  the  uttermost  depths  of  poverty  and 
pauperism.  The  people  starve  and  perish  in  famine  every  now 
and  then  by  half  a  million  at  a  time.  One-third  of  that  superb 
peninsula  is  reduced  to  waste  and  jungle.  While  other  colonies 
pay  from  twenty  to  thirty  shillings  per  head  of  revenue,  India 
yields  only  four  shillings  per  head.  The  income  of  the  govern- 


OF  ENGLAND.  471 

ment  at  the  last  renewal  of  the  charter  was  twenty  millions  ;  it  is 
now  reduced  to  about  seventeen  millions;  and  even  to  raise  this, 
they  have  been  obliged  to  double  the  tax  on  salt.  The  debt  was 
forty  millions ;  it  is  now  said  to  be  augmented  by  constant  war, 
and  the  payment  of  the  dividends,  which,  whatever  the  real  pro- 
ceeds, are  always  kept  up  to  the  usual  height,  to  seventy  millions. 
This  is  a  state  of  things  which  cannot  last.  It  is  a  grand  march 
toward  financial  inanition.  It  threatens,  if  not  arrested  by  the 
voice  of  the  British  people,  the  certain  and  no  very  distant  loss 
of  India. 

"  We  have  some  glimpses  of  the  treatment  of  the  people  in  the 
collection  of  the  land-tax,  as  it  is  called,  but  really  the  rent.  The 
government  claims  not  the  mere  right  of  governing,  but,  as  con- 
querors, the  fee-simple  of  the  land.  Over  the  greater  part  of 
India  there  are  no  real  freeholders.  The  land  is  the  Company's, 
and  they  collect,  not  a  tax,  but  a  rent.  They  have  their  collectors 
all  over  India,  who  go  and  say  as  the  crops  stand,  *  We  shall  take 
BO  much  of  this/  It  is  seldom  less  than  one-half—it  is  more  com- 
monly sixty,  seventy,  and  eighty  per  cent !  This  is  killing  the 
goose  to  come  at  the  golden  egg.  It  drives  the  people  to  despair ; 
they  run  away  and  leave  the  land  to  become  jungle ;  they  perish 
by  famine  in  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands. 

"  This  is  why  no  capitalists  dare  to  settle  and  grow  for  us 
cotton,  or  manufacture  for  us  sugar.  There  is  no  security — no 
fixity  of  taxation.  It  is  one  wholesale  system  of  arbitrary  plun- 
der, such  as  none  but  a  conquered  country  in  the  first  violence  of 
victorious  license  ever  was  subjected  to.  But  this  system  has 
here  continued  more  than  a  generation ;  the  country  is  reduced 
by  it  to  a  fatal  condition — the  only  wonder  is  that  we  yet  retain 
it  at  all. 

"  The  same  system  is  pursued  in  the  opium  monopoly.  The  finest 
lands  are  taken  for  the  cultivation  of  the  poppy ;  the  government 
give  the  natives  what  they  please  for  the  opium,  often  about  as 
many  shillings  as  they  get  paid  for  it  guineas  per  pound,  and 
ship  it  off  to  curse  China  with  it.  '  In  India/  says  a  writer  in 
the  Chinese  Repository,  'the  extent  of  territory  occupied  with  the 
poppy,  and  the  amount  of  population  engaged  in  its  cultivation 


472  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

and  the  preparation  of  opium,  are  far  greater  than  in  any  other 
part  of  the  world.' 

"  Turkey  is  said  to  produce  only  2000  chests  of  opium  annually; 
India  produces  40,000  of  134  Ibs.  each,  and  yielding  a  revenue  of 
about  £4,000,000  sterling. 

"  But  perhaps  worse  than  all  is  the  salt  monopoly.  It  is  well 
known  that  the  people  of  India  are  a  vegetable  diet  people.  Boiled 
rice  is  their  chief  food,  and  salt  is  an  absolute  necessary  of  life. 
With  a  vegetable  diet  in  that  hot  climate,  without  plenty  of  salt, 
putrid  diseases  and  rapid  mortality  are  inevitable.  Nature,  or 
Providence,  has  therefore  given  salt  in  abundance.  The  sea 
throws  it  up  already  crystallized  in  many  places  ;  in  others  it  ia 
prepared  by  evaporation ;  but  the  Company  steps  in  and  imposes 
two  hundred  per  cent,  on  this  indispensable  article,  and  guards  it 
by  such  penalties  that  the  native  dare  not  stoop  to  gather  it  when 
it  lies  at  his  feet.  The  consequence  is  that  mortality  prevails,  to 
a  terrific  extent  often,  among  the  population.  Officers  of  govern- 
ment are  employed  to  destroy  the  salt  naturally  formed ;  and 
government  determines  how  much  salt  shall  be  annually  con- 
sumed. 

"  Now,  let  the  people  of  England  mark  one  thing.  The  cholera 
originates  in  the  East.  It  has  visited  us  once,  and  is  on  its  march 
once  more  toward  us.  We  have  heard  through  the  newspapers 
of  its  arrival  in  Syria,  in  Turkey,  in  Russia,  at  Vienna.  In  a  few 
months  it  will  probably  be  again  among  us. 

"  Has  any  one  yet  imagined  that  this  scourge  may  possibly  le  the 
instrument  of  Divine  retribution  for  our  crimes  and  cruelties  f  Has 
any  one  imagined  that  we  have  any  thing  to  do  with  the  creation 
of  this  terrible  pestilence  ?  Yet  there  is  little,  there  is  scarcely 
the  least  doubt,  that  this  awful  instrument  of  death  is  occasioned 
by  this  very  monopoly  of  salt — that  it  is  the  direct  work  of  the 
four-and-twenty  men  in  Leadenhall-street.  The  cholera  is  found 
to  arise  in  the  very  centre  of  India.  It  commences  in  the  midst 
of  this  swarming  population,  which  subsists  on  vegetables,  and 
which  is  deprived  by  the  British  government  of  the  necessary 
salt  I  In  that  hot  climate  it  acquires  a  deadly  strength — thou- 
sands perish  by  it  as  by  the  stroke  of  lightning,  and  it  hence 


OF   ENGLAND.  473 

radiates  over  the  globe,  travelling  at  the  speed  of  a  horse  in  full 
gallop.  Thus  it  is  that  God  visits  our  deeds  upon  our  heads. 

"  Such  is  a  brief  glance  at  the  mal-administration,  the  abuse,  and 
the  murderous  treatment  of  India,  permitted  by  great  and  Christian 
England  to  a  knot  of  mere  money-making  traders.  "We  commit 
the  lives  and  happiness  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  millions  of  souls 
—the  well-being,  and  probably  the  chance  of  retention,  of  one  of  the 
finest  countries  in  the  world,  and  the  comfort  and  prosperity  of 
every  human  creature  in  Great  Britain,  to  the  hands  of  those  who 
are  only,  from  day  to  day,  grasping  at  the  vitals  of  this  glorious 
Eastern  region  to  increase  their  dividends.  This  is  bad  enough, 
but  this  is  not  all.  As  if  we  had  given  them  a  charter  in  the  most 
effectual  manner  to  damage  our  dominions  and  blast  all  our  pros- 
pects of  trade,  we  have  allowed  these  four-and-twenty  men  of 
Leadenhall-street  not  only  to  cripple  India,  but  to  exasperate 
and,  as  far  as  possible,  close  China  against  us.  Two  millions  of 
people  in  India  and  three  millions  of  people  in  China — all  wait- 
ing for  our  manufactures,  all  capable  of  sending  us  the  comforts 
and  necessaries  that  we  need — it  would  seem  that  to  us,  a  nation 
especially  devoted  to  trade,  as  if  Providence  had  opened  all  the  gor- 
geous and  populous  East  to  employ  and  to  enrich  us.  One  would 
have  thought  that  every  care  and  anxiety  would  have  been  aroused 
to  put  ourselves  on  the  best  footing  with  this  swarming  region. 
It  has  been  the  last  thing  thought  of. 

"  The  men  of  Leadenhall-street  have  been  permitted,  after  having 
paralyzed  India,  to  send  to  China  not  the  articles  that  the  Chinese 
wanted,  but  the  very  thing  of  all  others  that  its  authorities  ab- 
horred— that  is,  opium. 

"  It  is  well  known  with  what  assiduity  these  traders  for  years 
thrust  this  deadly  drug  into  the  ports  of  China ;  or  it  may  be 
known  from  'Medhurst's  China/  from  'ThelwalPs  Iniquities 
of  the  Opium  Trade/  from  *  Montgomery  Martin's  Opium  in 
China/  and  various  other  works.  It  is  well  known  what  horrors, 
crimes,  ruin  of  families,  and  destruction  of  individuals  the  rage 
of  opium-smoking  introduced  among  the  millions  of  the  Celestial 
Empire.  Every  horror,  every  species  of  reckless  desperation, 
Bocial  depravity,  and  sensual  crime,  spread  from  the  practice  and 

31 


474  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

overran  China  as  a  plague.  Tho  rulers  attempted  to  stop  the  evil 
by  every  means  in  their  power.  They  enacted  the  severest 
punishments  for  the  sale  of  it.  These  did  not  avail.  They  aug- 
mented the  punishment  to  death.  Without  a  stop  to  it  the  whole 
framework  of  society  threatened  to  go  to  pieces.  'Opium,'  says 
the  Imperial  edict  itself,  'coming  from  the  distant  regions  of  bar- 
barians, has  pervaded  the  country  with  its  baneful  influence.'  Tho 
opium-smoker  would  steal,  sell  his  property,  his  children,  the 
mother  of  his  children,  and  finally  commit  murder  for  it.  Tho 
most  ghastly  spectacles  were  everywhere  seen ;  instead  of  healthy 
and  happy  men,  the  most  repulsive  scenes.  'I  vi  iteil  one  of  the 
opium-houses/  said  an  individual  quoted  by  Sir  Robert  Inglis,  in 
the  House  of  Commons,  in  1843,  '  and  shall  I  tell  you  what  I  saw 
in  this  antechamber  of  hell?  I  thought  it  impossible  to  find  any- 
thing worse  than  the  results  of  drinking  ardent  spirits  ;  but  I  have 
succeeded  in  finding  something  far  worse.  I  saw  Malays,  Chinese, 
men  and  women,  old  and  young,  in  one  mass,  in  one  common 
herd,  wallowing  in  their  filth,  beastly,  sensual,  devilish,  and  this 
under  the  eyes  of  a  Christian  government.' 

"  They  were  these  abominations  and  horrors  that  the  Emperor 
of  China  determined  to  arrest.  They  were  those  which  our  East 
India  Company  determined  to  perpetuate  for  this  base  gain. 
When  the  emperor  was  asked  to  license  the  sale  of  opium,  as  he 
could  not  effect  its  exclusion,  and  thus  make  a  profit  of  it,  what  was 
his  reply  ?  '  It  is  true  I  cannot  prevent  the  introduction  of  the  foil- 
ing poison.  Gain-wkiittj  ami  corn':-'  men  will,  for  profit  and  sen- 
suality, defeat  my  wishes,  but  iwt/iiny  will  induce  me  to  derive  a 
benefit  from  the  vice  and  misery  of  my  people.' 

"  These  were  the  sentiments  of  the  Chinese  monarch ;  what  was 
the  conduct  of  the  so-called  Christian  Englishmen?  They  deter- 
mined to  go  on  poisoning  and  demoralizing  China,  till  they  pro- 
voked the  government  to  war,  and  then  massacred  the  people  to 
compel  the  continuance  of  the  sale  of  opium." 

Howitt  evidently  lias  as  ardent  a  sympathy  for  those 
•who  have  suffered  from  the  tyranny  of  British  rule  as 


OF  ENGLAND.  475 

Edmund  Burke  himself.  The  wholesale  degradation  of 
the  Hindoos,  which  has  resulted  from  the  measures 
of  the  East  India  Company,  calls  loudly  indeed  for  the 
denunciations  of  indignant  humanity.  The  crime  must 
have  its  punishment.  The  ill-gotten  gains  of  the  Com- 
pany should  be  seized  to  carry  out  an  ameliorating 
policy,  and  all  concerned  in  enforcing  the  system  of 
oppression  should  be  taught  that  justice  is  not  to  be 
wounded  with  impunity. 

The  burdens  imposed  upon  the  Hindoos  are  precisely 
of  the  character  and  extent  of  those  that  have  reduced 
Ireland  to  poverty  and  her  people  to  slavery.  Besides 
the  enormous  rents,  which  are  sufficient  of  themselves 
to  dishearten  the  tillers  of  the  soil,  the  British  authori- 
ties seem  to  have  exhausted  invention  in  devising  taxes. 
So  dear  a  price  to  live  was  never  paid  by  any  people 
except  the  Irish.  What  remains  to  the  cultivator  when 
the  rent  of  the  land  and  almost  forty  different  taxes 
are  paid  ? 

Those  Hindoos  who  wish  to  employ  capital  or  labour 
in  any  other  way  than  in  cultivation  of  land  are  deterred 
by  the  formidable  array  of  taxation.  The  chief  taxes 
are  styled  the  Veesabuddy,  or  tax  on  merchants, 
traders,  and  shopkeepers  ;  the  Mohturfa,  or  tax  on 
weavers,  carpenters,  stonecutters,  and  other  mechanical 
trades ;  and  the  Bazeebab,  consisting  of  smaller  taxes 
annually  rented  out  to  the  highest  bidder.  The  pro- 
prietor of  the  Bazeebab  is  thus  constituted  a  petty  chief- 


4f<>  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

tain,  with  power  to  exact  fees  at  marriages  and  religions 
ceremonies ;  to  inquire  into  and  fine  the  misconduct  of 
females  in  families,  and  other  misdemeanours — in  fact, 
petty  tyrants,  who  can  at  all  times  allege  engagements 
to  the  government  to  justify  extortion.*  These  pro- 
prietors are  the  worst  kind  of  slaveholders. 

The  mode  of  settling  the  Mohturfa  on  looms  is  re- 
markable for  the  precision  of  its  exaction.  Every 
circumstance  of  the  weaver's  family  is  considered ;  the 
number  of  days  which  he  devotes  to  his  loom,  the  num- 
ber of  his  children,  the  assistance  which  he  receives 
from  them,  and  the  number  and  quality  of  the  pieces 
which  he  can  produce  in  a  year ;  so  that,  let  him  exert 
himself  as  he  will,  his  industry  will  always  be  taxed  to 
the  highest  degree. f  This  method  is  so  detailed  that 
the  servants  of  the  government  cannot  enter  into  it,  and 
the  assessment  of  the  tax  is  therefore  left  to  the  heads 
of  the  villages.  It  is  impossible  for  a  weaver  to  know 
what  he  is  to  pay  to  the  government  for  being  allowed 
to  carry  on  his  business  till  the  yearly  demand  is  made. 
If  he  has  worked  hard,  and  turned  out  one  or  two  pieces 
of  cloth  more  than  he  did  the  year  before,  his  tax  is  in- 
creased. The  more  industrious  he  is  the  more  he  is 
forced  to  pay. 

The  tax-gatherers  are  thorough  inquisitors.  Accord- 
ing to  Rikards,  upward  of  seventy  different  kinds  of 

*  Rikards,  f  Collectors  Report. 


OF  ENGLAND.  477 

buildings — the  houses,  shops,  or  warehouses  of  different 
castes  and  professions — were  ordered  to  be  entered  into 
the  survey  accounts ;  besides  the  following  implements 
of  professions,  which  were  usually  assessed  to  the  public 
revenue,  viz. :  "  Oil-mills,  iron  manufactory,  toddy- 
drawer's  stills,  potter's  kiln,  washerman's  stone,  gold- 
smith's tools,  sawyer's  saw,  toddy-drawer's  knives, 
fishing-nets,  barber's  hones,  blacksmith's  anvils,  pack- 
bullocks,  cocoa-nut  safe,  small  fishing-boats,  cotton- 
beater's  bow,  carpenter's  tools,  large  fishing-boats, 
looms,  salt-storehouses.  If  a  landlord  objects  to  the 
assessment  on.  trees,  as  old  and  past  bearing,  they  are, 
one  and  all,  ordered  to  be  cut  down — a  measure  as  ri- 
diculous as  unjust — as  it  not  only  inflicts  injury  upon 
the  landlord,  but  takes  away  the  chance  of  future  profit 
for  the  government.  Mr.  Eikards  bears  witness,  as  a 
collector  of  Malabar,  that  lands  and  produce  were 
sometimes  inserted  in  the  survey  account  which  abso- 
lutely did  not  exist,  while  other  lands  were  assessed  to 
the  revenue  at  more  than  their  actual  produce.  From 
all  this,  it  is  obvious  that  the  Hindoo  labourer  or  arti- 
san is  the  slave  of  the  tax-collector,  who,  moreover,  has 
no  interest  in  the  life  of  his  victim. 

Labour  being  almost  "  dirt  cheap"  in  India,  whenever 
speculating  companies  of  Englishmen  wish  to  carry  out 
4iny  particular  scheme  for  which  labourers  are  required, 
they  hire  a  number  of  Hindoo  Coolies,  induce  them  to 

visit  any  port  of  the  country,  and  treat  them  abomi- 

u* 


478  THE  WHITE  SLAVES 

nably,  knowing  that  the  poor  wretches  have  no  pro- 
tection. The  operations  of  the  Assam  Tea  Company 
illustrate  this. practice: — 

"  An  inconsiderate  expenditure  of  capital  placed  the  Assam  Tea 
Company  in  great  jeopardy,  and  at  one  time  it  was  feared  the 
scheme  would  bo  abandoned.  The  number  of  managers  and  as- 
sistants appointed  by  tlie  Assam  Company  to  carry  on  their  affairs 
and  superintend  their  tea  gardens,  on  largo  salaries,  was  quite 
unnecessary;  one  or  two  experienced  European  superintendents 
to  direct  the  native  establishment  would  have  answered  every  pur- 
pose. A  vast  number  of  Coolies  (or  labourers)  were  induced  to 
proceed  to  Upper  Assam  to  cultivate  the  gardens ;  but  bad  ar- 
rangements having  been  made  to  supply  them  with  proper,  whole- 
some food,  many  wore  seized  with  sickness.  On  their  arrival  at 
the  tea-plantations,  in  the  midst  of  high  and  dense  tree  jungle, 
numbers  absconded,  and  others  mot  an  untimely  end.  The  rico 
served  out  to  the  Coolies  from  the  Assam  Tea  Company's  store- 
rooms, was  so  bad  as  not  to  bo  fit  to  be  given  to  elephants,  much 
less  to  human  beings.  The  loss  of  these  labourers,  who  had  been 
conveyed  to  Upper  Assam  at  a  great  exponse>  deprived  the  com- 
pany of  the  means  of  cultivating  so  great  an  extent  of  country  as 
would  otherwise  have  been  insured ;  for  the  scanty  population  of 
Upper  Assam  offered  no  means  of  replacing  the  deficiency  of 
hands.  Nor  was  the  improvidence  of  the  company  in  respect  to 
labourers  the  only  instance  of  their  mismanagement.  Although 
the  company  must  have  known  that  they  had  no  real  use  or  neces- 
sity for  a  steamer,  a  hu^e  vessel  was  never theless  purchased,  and 
frequently  sent  up  and  down  the  Burrarnpooter  river  from  Cal- 
cutta; carrying  little  else  than  a  few  thousand  rupees  for  the 
payment  of  their  establishment  in  Upper  Assam,  which  might 
have  been  transmitted  through  native  bankers,  and  have  saved 
the  company  a  most  lavish  and  unprofitable  expenditure  of 
capital."* 

*  Sketch  of  Assam. 


OF   ENGLAND.  479 

Ay,  and  the  expense  is  all  that  is  thought  worthy  of 
consideration.  The  miserable  victims  to  the  measures 
of  the  company  might  perish  like  brutes  without  being 
even  pitied. 

On  the  verge  of  starvation,  as  so  many  of  the  Hindoo 
labourers  generally  are,  it  does  not  excite  surprise  that 
they  are  very  ready  to  listen  to  the  offers  of  those  who 
are  engaged  in  the  "  Cooley  slave-trade."  In  addition 
to  the  astounding  facts  given  by  us  in  the  previous  chap- 
ter, in  regard  to  this  traffic  in  men,  we  quote  the  follow- 
ing from  the  London  Spectator  of  October,  1838 : — 

"  Under  Lord  Glenelg's  patronage,  the  Eastern  slave-trade  pros- 
pers exceedingly.  The  traffic  in  Hill  Coolies  promises  to  become 
one  of  the  most  extensive  under  the  British  flag.  A  cargo  arrived 
in  Berbice  about  the  beginning  of  May,  in  prime  condition :  and 
the  Berbice  Advertiser,  one  of  the  most  respectable  of  the  West 
India  journals,  states,  that  out  of  289,  conveyed  in  the  Whitby, 
only  eight  died  on  the  passage,  and  very  few  were  ill.  Only  one 
circumstance  was  wanting  to  make  them  the  happiest  of  human  (?) 
beings — only  eight  women  were  sent  as  companions  for  the  280 
men ;  and  the  deficiency  of  females  was  the  more  to  be  regretted 
because  it  was  '  probable  they  would  be  shunned  by  the  negroes 
from  jealousy  and  speaking  a  different  language/ 

"  The  same  newspaper  contains  a  very  curious  document  re- 
specting the  Hill  Cooley  traffic.  It  is  a  circular  letter,  dated  the 
8th  January,  1838,  from  Henley,  Dowson,  and  Bethel,  of  Calcutta, 
the  agents  most  extensively  engaged  in  the  shipment  of  labourers 
from  India  to  the  Mauritius  and  British  Guiana.  These  gentle- 
men thus  state  their  claims  to  preference  over  other  houses  in  the 
same  business : — 

" '  We  have  within  the  last  two  years  procured  and  shipped 
upward  of  5000  free  agricultural  labourers  fqr  our  friends  at  Mau- 


480  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

ritius ;  and,  from  the  circumstance  of  nearly  500  of  the  number 
being  employed  on  estates  in  which  we  possess  a  direct  interest, 
we  can  assure  you  that  a  happier  and  more  contented  labouring 
population  is  seldom  to  be  met  with  in  any  part  of  the  world, 
than  the  Dhargas  or  mountain  tribes  sent  from  this  vast  country/ 

"  Five  thousand  within  two  years  to  the  Mauritius  alone  1  This 
is  pretty  well,  considering  that  the  trade  is  in  its  infancy.  As  to 
the  statement  of  the  happiness  and  contentment  of  the  labourers, 
rather  more  impartial  evidence  than  the  good  word  of  the  ex- 
porters of  the  commodity  advertised  would  be  desirable.  If 
Englishmen  could  fancy  themselves  Hill  Coolies  for  an  instant — 
landed  in  Berbice,  in  the  proportion  of  280  men  to  8  of  the  gentler 
sex,  *  speaking  a  different  language/  and  shunned  by  the  very 
negroes — we  are  inclined  to  think  they  would  .not,  even  in  that 
imaginary  and  momentary  view,  conceit  themselves  to  be  among 
the  happiest  of  mankind. 

"  We  proceed  with  the  Calcutta  circular : — 

"  '  The  labourers  hitherto  procured  by  us  have  cost  their  em- 
ployers, landed  at  the  Mauritius,  about  one  hundred  rupees  (or 
10Z.  sterling)  per  man ;  which  sum  comprises  six  months'  advance 
of  wages,  provisions  and  water  for  the  voyage,  clothing,  commis- 
sion, passage,  insurance,  and  all  incidental  charges/ 

"  '  The  expense  attending  the  shipment  of  Indian  labourers  to 
the  West  India  Colonies  would  be  necessarily  augmented — firstly, 
by  the  higher  rate  of  passage-money,  and  the  increased  quantity 
of  provisions  and  water ;  and,  secondly,  from  the  necessity  of 
making  arrangements,  indispensable  to  the  health  and  comfort 
of  native  passengers,  on  a  voyage  of  so  long  a  duration,  in  the 
course  of  which  they  would  be  exposed  to  great  vicissitude  of 
climate. 

"'On  making  ample  allowance  for  these  charges,  we  do  not 
apprehend  that  a  labourer,  sent  direct  from  this  country  to  Deme- 
rara,  and  engaged  to  work  on  your  estates  for  a  period  of  five 
consecutive  years,  would  cost,  landed  there,  above  two  hundred 
and  ten  rupees,  or  21Z.  sterling/ 

"  This  sum  of  210  rupees  includes  six  months9  wages — at  what 
rate  does  the  reader  ^suppose?  Why,  five  rupees,  or  ten  shillings 


OF  ENGLAND.  481 

sterling  a  month — half-a-crown  a  week — in  Demerara  I  The  pas- 
sage is  10Z.,  and  the  insurance  12s. ;  for  they  are  insured  at  so 
much  a  head,  like  pigs  or  sheep. 

"  It  is  manifest  that  after  their  arrival  in  Demerara,  the  Indians 
will  not,  unless  on  compulsion,  work  for  five  years  at  the  rate  of 
10s.  a  month,  while  the  negroes  receive  much  higher  wages. 
They  are  therefore  placed  under  strict  control,  and  are  just  as 
much  slaves  as  the  Redemptioners,  whom  the  virtuous  Quakers 
inveigled  into  Pennsylvania  a  century  or  more  ago.  The  Indians 
bind  themselves  to  work  in  town  or  country,  wherever  their  con- 
signee or  master /nay  choose  to  employ  them.  One  of  the  articles 
of  their  agreement  is  this : — 

"  *  In  order  that  the  undersigned  natives  of  India  may  be  fully 
aware  of  the  engagement  they  undertake,  it  is  hereby  notified, 
that  they  will  be  required  to  do  all  such  work  as  the  object  for 
which  they  are  engaged  necessitates  ;  and  that,  as  labourers  attached 
to  an  estate,  they  will  be  required  to  clear  forest  and  extract  timber, 
carry  manure,  dig  and  prepare  land  for  planting,  also  to  take 
charge  of  horses,  mules,  and  cattle  of  every  description ;  in  short, 
to  do  all  such  work  as  an  estate  for  the  cultivation  of  sugar-cane  and 
the  manufacture  of  sugar  demands,  or  any  branch  of  agriculture  to 
which  they  may  be  destined/ 

"  In  case  of  disobedience  or  misconduct — that  is,  at  the  caprice 
of  the  master — they  may  be  *  degraded/  and  sent  back  at  their 
own  charge  to  Calcutta.  They  are  to  receive  no  wages  during 
illness ;  and  a  rupee  a  month  is  to  be  deducted  from  their  wages 
—thereby  reducing  them  to  2s.  a  week — as  an  indemnity-fund  for 
the  cost  of  sending  them  back.  What  security  there  is  for  the 
kind  treatment  of  the  labourers  does  not  appear :  there  is  nothing 
in  the  contract  but  a  promise  to  act  equitably. 

"  Now,  in  what  respect  do  these  men  differ  in  condition  from 
negro  slaves,  except  very  much  for  the  worse?  They  must  be 
more  helpless  than  the  negroes — if  for  no  other  reason,  because 
of  their  ignorance  of  the  language  their  masters  use.  They  will 
not,  for  a  long  period  certainly,  be  formidable  from  their  numbers. 
How  easily  may  even  the  miserable  terms  of  the  contract  with 
their  employers  be  evaded !  Suppose  the  Indian  works  steadily 


482  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

for  four  years,  it  may  suit  his  master  to  describe  him  as  refrac- 
tory and  idle  during  the  fifth,  and  then  he  will  be  sent  back  at 
his  own  cost ;  and  the  whole  of  his  earnings  may  be  expended  in 
paying  for  his  passage  to  Calcutta,  where,  after  all,  he  is  a  long 
way  from  home. 

"It  is  impossible  to  contemplate  without  pain  the  inevitable 
lot  of  these  helpless  beings  ;  but  the  conduct  of  the  government, 
which  could  sanction  the  infamous  commerce  of  which  the  Hill 
Cooley  will  be  the  victims,  while  professing  all  the  while  such  a 
holy  horror  of  dealing  in  negroes,  should  rouse  general  indig- 
nation. 

Is  it  only  a  certain  shade  of  black,  and  a  peculiar  physical 
conformation,  which  excites  the  compassion  of  the  Anti-Slavery 
people  ?  If  it  is  cruelty,  oppression,  and  fraud  which  they  abhor 
and  desire  to  prevent,  then  let  them  renew  their  agitation  in 
behalf  of  the  kidnapped  natives  of  India,  now  suffering,  probably 
more  acutely,  all  that  made  the  lot  of  the  negro  a  theme  for  elo- 
quence and  a  field  for  Christian  philanthropy." 

This  is  written  in  the  right  spirit.  The  trade  de- 
scribed has  increased  to  an  extent  which  calls  for  the 
interference  of  some  humane  power.  Should  the  British 
government  continue  to  sanction  the  traffic,  it  must  stand 
responsible  for  a  national  crime. 

Oppressive  and  violent  as  the  British  dominion  in 
India  undoubtedly  is,  the  means  devised  to  extend  it 
are  even  more  worthy  of  strong  condemnation.  The 
government  fixes  its  eyes  upon  a  certain  province,  where 
the  people  are  enjoying  peace  and  plenty,  and  deter- 
mines to  get  possession  of  it.  The  Romans  themselves 
were  not  more  fertile  in  pretences  for  forcible  seizure 
of  territory  than  these  British  plunderers.  They  quickly 
hunt  up  a  pretender  to  the  throne,  support  his  claims 


OF   ENGLAND.  483 

•with  a  powerful  army,  make  him  their  complete  tool, 
dethrone  the  lawful  sovereign,  and  extend  their  autho- 
rity over  the  country.  The  course  pursued  toward 
Afghanistan  in  1838  illustrates  this  outrageous  viola- 
tion of  national  rights. 

The  following  account  of  the  origin  and  progress  of 
the  Afghanistan  war  is  given  by  an  English  writer  in  the 
Penny  Magazine : — 

"  In  1747,  Ahmeed  Shah,  an  officer  of  an  Afghan  troop  in  the 
service  of  Persia,  refounded  the  Afghan  monarchy,  which  was 
maintained  until  the  death  of  his  successor  in  1793.  Ahmeed 
was  of  the  Douranee  tribe,  and  the  limits  over  which  his  sway 
extended  is  spoken  of  as  the  Douranee  empire.  Four  of  the  sons 
of  Ahmeed' s  successor  disputed,  and  in  turn  possessed,  the  throne ; 
and  during  this  civil  war  several  of  the  principal  chiefs  threw  off 
their  allegiance,  and  the  Douranee  empire  ceased  to  exist,  but 
was  split  up  into  the  chiefships  of  Candahar,  Herat,  Caboul,  and 
Peshawur.  Herat  afterward  became  a  dependency  of  Persia,  and 
Shah  Shooja  ool  Moolook,  the  chief  of  Peshawur,  lost  his  power 
after  having  enjoyed  it  for  about  six  years.  Dost  Mohammed 
Kahn,  the  chief  of  Caboul,  according  to  the  testimony  of  the  late 
Sir  Alexander  Burnes,  writing  in  1832,  governed  his  territory 
with  great  judgment,  improved  its  internal  administration  and 
resources,  and  became  the  most  powerful  chief  in  Afghanistan. 
Shah  Shooja  was  for  many  years  a  fugitive  and  a  pensioner  of 
the  British  government.  He  made  one  unsuccessful  attempt  to 
regain  his  territory,  but  Peshawur  eventually  became  a  tributary 
to  the  ruler  of  the  Punjab.  Such  was  the  state  of  Afghanistan 
in  1836. 

"  In  the  above  year  the  Anglo-Indian  government  complained 
that  Dost  Mohammed  Khan,  chief  of  Caboul,  had  engaged  in 
schemes  of  aggrandizement  which  threatened  the  stability  of  the 
British  frontier  in  India ;  and  Sir  Alexander  Burnes,  who  was 


484:  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

sent  with  authority  to  represent  to  him  the  light  in  which  his 
proceedings  were  viewed,  was  compelled  to  leave  Caboul  without 
having  effected  any  change  in  his  conduct.  The  siege  of  Herat, 
and  the  support  which  both  Dost  Mohammed  and  his  brother,  the 
chief  of  Candahar,  gave  to  the  designs  of  Persia  in  Afghanistan, 
the  latter  chief  especially  openly  assisting  the  operations  against 
Herat,  created  fresh  alarm  in  the  Anglo-Indian  government  as  to 
the  security  of  our  frontier.  Several  minor  chiefs  also  avowed 
their  attachment  to  the  Persians.  As  our  policy,  instead  of  hos- 
tility, required  an  ally  capable  of  resisting  aggression  on  the 
western  frontier  of  India,  the  Governor-general,  from  whose  offi- 
cial papers  we  take  these  statements, '  was  satisfied/  after  serious 
and  mature  deliberation,  'that  a  pressing  necessity,  as  well  as 
every  consideration  of  policy  and  justice,  warranted  us  in  espous- 
ing the  cause  of  Shah  Shopja  ool  Moolk ;'  and  it  was  determined 
to  place  him  on  the  throne.  According  to  the  Governor-general, 
•speaking  from  the  best  authority,  the  testimony  as  to  Shah  Shooja's 
popularity  was  unanimous.  In  June,  18318,  the  late  Sir  William 
Macnaghten  formed  a  tripartite  treaty  with  the  ruler  of  the  Pun- 
jab and  Shah  Shooja ;  the  object  of  which  was  to  restore  the  latter 
to  the  throne  of  his  ancestors.  This  policy  it  was  conceived  would 
conduce  to  the  general  freedom  and  security  of  commerce,  the 
restoration  of  tranquillity  upon  the  most  important  frontier  of 
India,  and  the  erection  of  a  lasting  barrier  against  hostile  in- 
trigue and  encroachment ;  and,  while  British  influence  would 
thus  gain  its  proper  footing  among  the  nations  of  Central  Asia, 
the  prosperity  of  the  Afghan  people  would  be  promoted. 

"  Troops  were  despatched  from  the  Presidencies  of  Bengal  and 
Bombay  to  co-operate  with  the  contingents  raised  by  the  Shah 
and  our  other  ally,  the  united  force  being  intended  to  act  together 
under  the  name  of  the  '  Army  of  the  Indus/  After  a  march  of 
extraordinary  length,  through  countries  which  had  never  before 
been  traversed  by  British  troops,  and  defiles  which  are  the  most 
difficult  passes  in  the  world,  where  no  wheeled  carriage  had  ever 
been,  and  where  it  was  necessary  for  the  engineers  in  many  places 
to  construct  roads  before  the  baggage  could  proceed,  the  com- 
bined forces  from  Bengal  and  Bombay  reached  Candahar  in  May, 


OF  ENGLAND.  485 

1839.  According  to  the  official  accounts,  the  population  were 
enthusiastic  in  welcoming  the  return  of  Shah  Shooja.  The  next 
step  was  to  advance  toward  Ghiznee  and  Caboul.  On  the  23d 
July,  the  strong  and  important  fortress  and  citadel  of  Ghiznee, 
regarded  throughout  Asia  as  impregnable,  was  taken  in  two 
hours  by  blowing  up  the  Caboul  gate.  The  army  had  only  been 
forty-eight .  hours  before  the  place.  An  '  explosion  party'  carried 
three  hundred  pounds  of  gunpowder  in  twelve  sand-bags,  with  a 
hose  seventy-two  feet  long,  the  train  was  laid  and  fired,  the  party 
having  just  time  to  reach  a  tolerable  shelter  from  the  effects  of 
the  concussion,  though  one  of  the  officers  was  injured  by  its  force. 
On  the  7th  of  August  the  army  entered  Caboul.  Dost  Mohammed 
had  recalled  his  son  Mohammed  Akhbar  from  Jellalabad  with 
the  troops  guarding  the  Khyber  Pass,  and  their  united  forces 
amounted  to  thirteen  thousand  men ;  but  these  troops  refused  to 
advance,  and  Dost  Mohammed  was  obliged  to  take  precipitate 
flight,  accompanied  only  by  a  small  number  of  horsemen.  Shah 
Shooja  made  a  triumphant  entry  into  Caboul,  and  the  troops  of 
Dost  Mohammed  tendered  their  allegiance  to  him.  The  official 
accounts  state  that  in  his  progress  toward  Caboul  he  was  joined 
by  every  person  of  rank  and  influence  in  the  country.  As  the 
tribes  in  the  Bolan  Pass  committed  many  outrages  and  murders 
on  the  followers  of  the  army  of  the  Indus,  at  the  instigation  of 
their  chief,  the  Khan  of  Khelat,  his  principal  town  (Khelat)  was 
taken  on  the  13th  of  November,  1839.  The  political  objects  of  the 
expedition  had  now  apparently  been  obtained.  The  hostile  chiefs 
of  Caboul  and  Candahar  were  replaced  by  a  friendly  monarch. 
On  the  side  of  Scinde  and  Herat,  British  alliance  and  protection 
were  courted.  All  this  had  been  accomplished  in  a  few.  months, 
"but  at  an  expense  said  to  exceed  three  millions  sterling." 

The  expense  of  national  outrage  is  only  of  importance 
to  the  sordid  and  unprincipled  men  who  conceived  and 
superintended  the  Afghanistan  expedition.  In  the  first 
part  of  the  above  extract,  the  writer  places  the  British 
government  in  the  position  of  one  who  strikes  in  self- 


486  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

defence.  It  was  informed  that  Dost  Mohammed  enter- 
tained schemes  of  invasion  dangerous  to  the  British 
supremacy — informed  by  the  exiled  enemy  of  the  chief 
of  Caboul.  The  information  was  seasonable  and  ex- 
ceedingly useful.  Straightway  a  treaty  was  formed,  by 
which  the  British  agreed  to  place  their  tool  for  the 
enslavement  of  the  Afghans  upon  the  throne  from 
which  he  had  been  driven.  Further  on,  it  is  said,  that 
when  Shah  Sooja  appeared  in  Afghanistan  he  was 
joined  by  every  person  of  rank  and  influence  in  the 
country.  Just  so ;  and  the  followers  and  supporters 
of  Dost  Mohammed  nearly  all  submitted  to  the  supe- 
rior army  of  the  British  general.  But  two  years  after- 
ward, the  strength  of  the  patriotic  party  was  seen,  when 
Caboul  rose  against  Shah  Sooja,  drove  him  again  from 
the  throne,  and  defeated  and  massacred  a  considerable 
British  garrison.  Shah  Sooja  was  murdered  soon  after- 
ward. But  the  British  continued  the  war  against  the 
Afghans,  with  the  object  of  reducing  them  to  the  same 
slavery  under  which  the  remainder  of  Hindostan  was 
groaning.  The  violation  of  national  rights,  the  mas- 
sacre of  thousands,  and  the  enslavement  of  millions 
were  the  glorious  aims  of  British  policy  in  the  Afghan 
expedition.  The  policy  then  carried  out  has  been  more 
fully  illustrated  since  that  period.  Whenever  a  ter- 
ritory was  thought  desirable  by  the  government,  neither 
national  rights,  the  principles  of  justice  and  humanity, 
nor  even  the  common  right  of  property  in  individuals 


OF   ENGLAND.  487 

has  been  respected.  Wealth  has  been  an  object  for 
the  attainment  of  which  plunder  and  massacre  were  not 
considered  unworthy  means. 

Said  Mr.  John  Bright,  the  radical  reformer  of  Man- 
chester, in  a  speech  delivered  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons : — "  It  cannot  be  too  universally  known  that  the 
cultivators  of  the  soil  (in  India)  are  in  a  very  unsatis- 
factory condition ;  that  they  are,  in  truth,  in  a  condi- 
tion of  almost  extreme  and  universal  poverty.  All 
testimony  concurred  upon  that  point.  He  would  call 
the  attention  of  the  House  to  the  statement  of  a  cele- 
brated native  of  India,  the  Rajah  Rammohun  Roy,  who, 
about  twenty  years  ago,  published  a  pamphlet  in  Lon- 
don, in  which  he  pointed  out  the  ruinous  effects  of  the 
Zemindaree  system,  and  the  oppressions  experienced  by 
the  ryots  in  the  Presidencies  of  Bombay  and  Madras. 
After  describing  the  state  of  affairs  generally,  he  added, 
<  Such  was  the  melancholy  condition  of  the  agricultural 
labourers,  that  it  always  gave  him  the  greatest  pain  to 
allude  to  it.'  Three  years  afterward,  Mr.  Shore,  who 
was  a  judge  in  India,  published  a  work  which  was  con- 
sidered as  a  standard  work  till  now,  and  he  stated  <  that 
the  British  government  was  not  regarded  in  a  favour- 
able light  by  the  native  population  of  India — that  a 
system  of  taxation  and  extortion  was  carried  on  unpa- 
ralleled in  the  annals  of  any  country.' ' 

From  all  quarters  we  receive  unimpeachable  evidence 
that  the  locust  system  has  performed  its  devouring  work 


488  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

on  the  broadest  scale  in  India ;  and  that  the  Hindoos 
are  the  victims  of  conquerors,  slower,  indeed,  in  their 
movements,  than  Tamerlane  or  Genghis  Khan,  but  more 
destructive  and  more  criminal  than  either  of  those  great 
barbarian  invaders. 


OF  ENGLAND.  489 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  CRIME  AND  THE  DUTY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  GOVERNMENT. 

IT  remains  to  sum  up  the  charges  against  the  English 
^  oligarchy,  and  to  point  out  the  path  which  justice,  hu- 
manity, and  the  age  require  the  government  to  pursue. 
In  so  doing,  we  shall  go  no  farther  than  the  facts  pre- 
viously adduced  will  afford  us  sure  ground,  nor  speak 
more  harshly  than  our  duty  to  our  oppressed  fellow-men 
will  demand.  We  pity  the  criminal  even  while  we  pass 
sentence  upon  her. 

A  government  originating  in,  and  suited  for,  a  barba- 
rous age  must  necessarily  be  unfit  for  one  enjoying  the 
meridian  of  civilization.  The  arrangement  of  lord  and 
serf  was  appropriate  to  the  period  when  war  was  regarded 
as  the  chief  employment  of  mankind,  and  when  more 
^respect  was  paid  to  the  kind  of  blood  flowing  in  a  man's 
veins  than  to  his  greatness  or  generosity  of  soul.  But, 
in  the  nineteenth  century,  war  is  regarded  as  an  evil  to 
be  avoided  as  long  as  possible.  Peace  is  the  rule,  and 
conflict  the  exception.  Christianity  has  taught  us,  also, 
that  the  good  and  the  great  in  heart  and  mind — wher- 
ever born,  wherever  bred — are  the  true  nobility  of  our 

race.     It  is  the  sin  of  the  English  government  that  it 

32 


490  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

n 

•works  against  the  bright  influence  of  the  times  and 
throws  the  gloomy  shadow  of  feudalism  over  some  of  the 
fairest  regions  of  the  earth.  It  legislates  for  the  age 
of  William  the  Conqueror  instead  of  the  reign  of 
Victoria. 

The  few  for  hereditary  luxury  and  dominion,  the 
many  for  hereditary  misery  and  slavery,  is  the  grand 
fundamental  principle  of  the  English  system.  For  every 
gorgeous  palace  there  are  a  thousand  hovels,  where  even 
beasts  should  not  be  forced  to  dwell.  For  every  lord1 
who  spends  his  days  in  drinking,  gambling,  hunting, 
horse-racing,  and  indulging  himself  in  all  the  luxu- 
ries that  money  can  purchase,  a  thousand  persons,  at 
least,  must  toil  day  and  night  to  obtain  the  most  wretched 
subsistence.  In  no  country  are  the  few  richer  than  in 
England,  and  in  no  country  are  the  masses  more  fear- 
fully wretched.  .  The  great  bulk  of  the  property  of 
England,  both  civil  and  ecclesiastical,  is  in  the  grasp  of 
the  aristocracy.  All  offices  of  church  and  state,  yield- 
ing any  considerable  emolument,  are  monopolized  by  the 
lords  and  their  nominees.  The  masses  earn — the  lords 
spend.  The  lords  have  all  the  property,  but  the  masses 
pay  all  the  taxes,  and  slave  and  starve  that  the  taxes 
may  be  paid. 

Without  such  a  system,  is  it  possible  that  there  could 
be  millions  of  acres  of  good  land  lying  waste,  and  mil- 
lions of  paupers  who  dare  not  cultivate  it  ? — that  the 
workhouses  could  be  crowded — that  men,  women,  and 


OF  ENGLAND.  491 

children  could  be  driven  to  all  kinds  of  work,  and  yet 
by  the  most  exhausting  toil  not  earn  enough  to  enable 
them  to  live  decently  and  comfortably — that  honest  and 
industrious  people  could  starve  by  the  wayside,  or  die 
of  disease  engendered  in  dirty  hovels — that  vice  and 
crime  could  be  practised  to  an  appalling  extent — that 
whole  villages  could  be  swept  away  and  the  poor  la- 
bourers either  driven  into  the  crowded  cities,  or  to  a 
distant  land,  far  from  kindred  and  friends  ? 

The  aristocrats  of  England  are  the  most  extensive 
slaveholders  in  the  world.  In  England,  Wales,  Scot- 
land, and  Ireland,  they  have  the  entire  labouring  mass 
for  their  slaves — men,  women,  and  children  being  doomed 
to  the  most  grinding  toil  to  enable  their  masters  to  live 
in  luxurious  ease.  In  India  and  the  other  colonies  they 
have  treated  the  natives  as  the  conquered  were  treated 
in  the  Middle  Ages.  They  have  drained  their  resources, 
oppressed  them  in  every  way,  and  disposed  of  tribes  and 
nations  as  if  they  had  been  dealing  with  cattle.  Add 
th'e  slaves  of  India  to  the  slaves  of  the  United  Kingdom, 
and  we  may  count  them  by  tens  of  millions.  These 
slaves  are  not  naturally  inferior  to  their  masters.  They 
belong  to  races  fertile  in  great  and  good  men  and 
women.  Poets,  artists,  philosophers,  historians,  states- 
men, and  warriors  of  the  first  magnitude  in  genius  have 
sprung  from  these  down-trodden  people.  They  have 
fully  proved  themselves  capable  of  enjoying  the  sweets 
of  freedom.  They  remain  slaves  because  their  masters 


492  THE   WHITE   SLAVES 

find  it  profitable,  and  know  how  to  cozen  and  bully -them 
into  submission. 

The  following  description  of  France  before  the  great 
revolution  of  1789,  by  M.  Thiers,  is  strikingly  applica- 
ble to  the  condition  of  Great  Britain  at  the  present 
day:— 

"  The  condition  of  the  country,  both  political  and  economical, 
was  intolerable.  There  was  nothing  but  privilege — privilege  vested 
in  individuals,  in  classes,  in  towns,  in  provinces,  and  even  in 
trades  and  professions.  Every  thing  contributed  to  check  indus- 
try and  the  natural  genius  of  man.  All  the  dignities  of  the  state, 
civil,  ecclesiastical,  and  military,  were  exclusively  reserved  to  cer- 
tain individuals.  No  man  could  take  up  a  profession  without 
certain  titles  and  the  compliance  with  certain  pecuniary  condi- 
tions. Even  the  favours  of  the  crown  were  converted  into  family 
property,  so  that  the  king  could  scarcely  exercise  his  own  judg- 
ment, or  give  any  preference.  Almost  the  only  liberty  left  to  the 
sovereign  was  that  of  making  pecuniary  gifts,  and  he  had  been 
reduced  to  the  necessity  of  disputing  with  the  Duke  of  Coigny  for 
the  abolition  of  a  useless  place.  Every  thing,  then,  was  made  im- 
movable property  in  the  hands  of  a  few,  and  everywhere  these  few 
resisted  the  many  who  had  been  despoiled.  The  burdens  of  the 
state  weighed  on  one  class  only.  The  noblesse  and  the  clergy 
possessed  about  two-fehirds  of  the  landed  property ;  the  other 
third,  possessed  by  the  people,  paid  taxes  to  the  king,  a  long  list  of 
feuclal  droits  to  the  noblesse,  tithes  to  the  clergy,  and  had,  more- 
over, to  support  the  devastations  committed  by  noble  sportsmen  and 
their  game.  The  taxes  upon  consumption  pressed  upon  the  great 
multitude,  and  consequently  on  the  people.  The  collection  of 
these  imposts  was  managed  in  an  unfair  and  irritating  manner ; 
the  lords  of  the  soil  left  long  arrears  with  impunity,  but  the  peo- 
ple, upon  any  delay  in  payment,  were  harshly  treated,  arrested, 
and  condemned  to  pay  in  their  persons,  in  default  of  money  to 
produce.  The  people,  therefore,  nourished  with  their  labour  and 


OF  ENGLAND.  493 

defended  with  their  blood  the  higher  classes  of  society,  without 
being  able  to  procure  a  comfortable  subsistence  for  themselves. 
The  townspeople,  a  body  of  citizens,  industrious,  educated,  less 
miserable  than  the  people,  could  nevertheless  obtain  none  of  the 
advantages  to  which  they  had  a  right  to  aspire,  seeing  that  it  was 
their  industry  that  nourished  and  their  talents  that  adorned  the 
kingdom." 

The  elements  of  revolution  are  all  to  be  found  in 
Great  Britain.  A  Mirabeau,  with  dauntless  will  and 
stormy  eloquence,  could  use  them  with  tremendous 
effect.  Yet  the  giant  of  the  people  does  not  raise  his 
voice  to  plead  the  cause  of  the  oppressed,  and  to  awaken 
that  irresitible  enthusiasm  which  would  sweep  away  the 
pampered  aristocracy. 

The  armorial  escutcheons  of  the  aristocracy  are  fear- 
fully significant  of  its  character.  Says  John  Hamp- 
den,  Jun.  :* — 

"The  whole  emblazonment  of  aristocracy  is  one  manifesto  of 
savage  barbarism,  brute  force,  and  propensity  to  robbery  and  plun- 
der. What  are  these  objects  on  their  shields  ?  Daggers,  swords, 
lions'  heads,  dogs'  heads,  arrow-heads,  boars'  heads,  cannon  balls, 
clubs,  with  a  medley  of  stars,  moons,  and  unmeaning  figures. 
What  are  the  crests  of  these  arms  ?  Lascivious  goats,  rampant 
lions,  fiery  dragons,  and  griffins  gone  crazed  :  bulls'  heads,  block- 
heads, arms  with  uplifted  daggers,  beasts  with  daggers,  and  vul- 
tures tearing  up  helpless  birds.  What,  again,  are  the  supporters 
of  these  shields?  What  are  the  emblems  of  the  powers  by  which 
they  are  mantained  and  upheld  ?  The  demonstration  is  deeply 
significant.  They  are  the  most  singular  assemblage  of  all  that  is 
fierce,  savage,  rampageous,  villanous,  lurking,  treacherous,  blood- 

*  The  Aristocracy  of  England. 


494  THE  WHITE   SLAVES 

thirsty,  cruel,  and  bestial  in  bestial  natures.  They  are  infuriated 
lions,  boars,  and  tigers  ;  they  are  raging  bulls,  filthy  goats,  horrid 
hyenas,  snarling  dogs,  drunken  bears,  and  mad  rams ;  they  are 
foxes,  wolves,  panthers,  every  thing  that  is  creeping,  sneaking, 
thievish,  and  perfidious.  Nay,  nature  cannot  furnish  emblems 
extensive  enough,  and  so  start  up  to  our  astonished  sight  the  most 
hideous  shapes  of  fiendlike  dragons  and  griffins,  black,  blasted  as 
by  infernal  fires  ;  the  most  fuliginous  of  monsters  ;  and  if  the  hu- 
man shape  is  assumed  for  the  guardians  and  supporters  of  aristo- 
cracy, they  are  wild  and  savage  men,  armed  with  clubs  and  grim 
with  hair,  scowling  brute  defiance,  and  seeming  ready  to  knock 
down  any  man  at  the  command  of  their  lords.  Ay,  the  very  birds 
of  prey  are  called  in ;  and  eagles,  vultures,  cormorants,  in  most 
expressive  attitudes,  with  most  ludicrous  embellishments  of 
crowned  heads,  collared  necks,  escutcheoned  sides,  and  with 
hoisted  wings  and  beaks  of  open  and  devouring  wrath,  proclaim 
the  same  great  truth,  that  aristocracy  is  of  the  class  of  what  the 
Germans  call  Baub-thieren,  or  robber-beasts — in  our  vernacular, 
leasts  of  prey." 

And  the  character  thus  published  to  the  world  has 
been  acted  out  to  the  full  from  the  days  of  the  bastard 
Duke  of  Normandy  and  his  horde  of  ruffians  to  the 
time  of  the  "Iron  Duke"  and  his  associates  in  title  and 
plunder.  The  hyenas  and  vultures  have  never  been 
satisfied. 

The  crime  of  England  lies  in  maintaining  the  slavery 
of  a  barbarous  age  in  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury ;  in  keeping  her  slaves  in  physical  misery,  mental 
darkness,  moral  depravity,  and  heathenism;  in  carry- 
ing fire  and  sword  into  some  of  tha  loveliest  regions  of 
the  earth,  in  order  to  gratify  that  thirst  for  wealth  and 
dominion  ever  characteristic  of  an  aristocracy ;  in 


OF   ENGLAND.  495 

forcing  her  slaves  in  India  to  cultivate  poison,  and  her 
weak  neighbours  of  China  to  buy  it ;  in  plundering  and 
oppressing  the  people  of  all  her  colonies  ;  in  concen- 
trating the  wealth  of  the  United  Kingdom  and  the  de- 
pendencies in  the  purses  of  a  few  persons,  and  thus 
dooming  all  others  beneath  her  iron  rule  to  constant, 
exhausting,  and  unrewarded  toil !  We  arraign  her  be- 
fore the  tribunal  of  justice  and  humanity,  as  the  most 
powerful  and  destructive  of  tyrannies ;  as  the  author 
of  Ireland's  miseries,  and  a  course  of  action  toward 
that  island  compared  with  which  the  dismemberment  of 
Poland  was  merciful ;  as  the  remorseless  conqueror  of 
the  Hindoos ;  as  a  government  so  oppressive  that  her 
people  are  flying  by  thousands  to  the  shores  of  America 
to  escape  its  inflictions!  Though  most  criminals  plead 
"not  guilty,"  she  cannot  have  the  front  to  do  so  !  The 
general  judgment  of  civilized  mankind  has  long  ago 
pronounced  a  verdict  of  conviction. 

Yet,. guilty  as  is  the  English  oligarchy,  certain  of  its 
members  have  taken  to  lecturing  the  world  about  the 
•  duties  of  Christians  and  philanthropists.     This,  we  sup- 
pose, in  charity,  is  done  upon  the  principle  given  by 
Hamlet  to  his  mother — 

"Assume  a  virtue  if  you  have  it  not." 

But  a  loftier  authority  than  Shakspeare  tells  us  to 
remove  the  beam  from  our  own  eye  before  we  point  to 
the  mote  that  is  in  the  eye  of  a  brother.  Example, 


496  ±lifi    WHITE    SLAVES 


also,  is  more  powerful  than  precept.  Pious  exhorta- 
tions from  a  villain  are  usually  disregarded.  A 
preacher  should  never  have  the  Hood  of  slaughtered 
victims  on  his  hands. 

We  think  it  not  difficult  to  show  that  England  is  the 
"best  friend  of  slavery,  while  professing  an  aversion  to 
it,  and  dictating  to  other  governments  to  strive  for  its  • 
abolition.  At  an  enormous  expense,  she  maintains 
men-of-war  upon  the  coast  of  Africa,  with  the  object 
of  suppressing  the  trade  in  negro  slaves.  This  expense 
her  white  slaves  are  taxed  to  pay  ;  while  the  men-of- 
war  have  not  only  not  suppressed  the  slave-trade,  but 
have  doubled  its  horrors,  by  compelling  the  slave- 
traders  to  inflict  new  tortures  upon  the  negroes  they 
capture  and  conceal.  In  the  mean  time,  the  govern- 
ment is  doing  all  in  its  power  to  impoverish  and  enslave 
(for  the  slavery  of  a  people  follows  its  poverty)  the 
more  intelligent  races  of  the  world.  England  prides 
herself  upon  her  efforts  to  destroy  the  trade  in  African 
savages  and  chattel  slavery.  Her  philanthropy  is  all 
black  ;  miserable  wretches  with  pale  faces  have  no 
claims  upon  her  assisting  hand;  and  she  refuses  to 
recognise  the  only  kind  of  slavery  by  which  masters 
are  necessitated  to  provide  well  for  their  slaves,  while 
she  enforces  that  system  which  starves  them  !  England 
is  the  best  friend  of  the  most  destructive  species  of 
slavery,  and  has  extended  it  over  tens  of  millions  of 
human  beings. 


OF   ENGLAND.  49T 

Justice,  humanity,  and  the  age  demand  the  abolition 
of  this  exhausting,  famine-breeding,  and  murderous 
system.  It  is  hostile  to  every  principle  of  right — to 
civilization,  and  to  the  loving  spirit  of  Christianity. 
Starving  millions  groan  beneath  the  yoke.  From  the 
crowded  factories  and  workshops — from  the  pestilential 
hovels — from  the  dark  and  slave-filled  coal-pits — from 
the  populous  workhouses — from  the  vast  army  of  wan- 
dering beggars  in  England  and  Scotland — from  the 
perishing  peasantry  of  Ireland — from  the  wretched 
Hindoos  upon  the  Ganges  and  the  Indus — from  the 
betrayed  Coolies  in  the  West-India  Islands — arises  the 
cry  for  relief  from  the  plunderers  and  the  oppressors. 
"How  long,  0  Lord,  how  long  I" 

A  few  thousand  persons  own  the  United  Kingdom. 
They  have  robbed  and  reduced  to  slavery  not  only 
their  own  countrymen,  but  millions  in  other  lands. 
They  continue  to  rob  wherever  they  find  an  opportunity. 
They  spend  what  their  crime  has  accumulated  in  all 
kinds  of  vice  and  dissipation,  and  rear  their  children 
to  the  same  courses.  Money  raised  for  religious  pur- 
poses they  waste  in  luxurious,  living.  They  trade  in 
all  the  offices  of  church  and  state.  They  persecute, 
by  exclusion,  all  who  do  not  subscribe  to  "thirty-nine 
articles"  which  they  wish  to  force  upon  mankind.  In 
brief,  the  oligarchy  lies  like  an  incubus  upon  the  empire, 
and  the  people  cannot  call  themselves  either  free  or 
happy  until  the  aristocrats  be  driven  from  their  high 


498  WHITE   SLAVES   OF   ENGLAND. 

places.  Burst,  then,  the  chains,  ye  countrymen  of 
Hampden  and  Vane !  Show  to  the  world  that  the  old 
fire  is  not  yet  quenched !  that  the  spirits  of  your  mar- 
tyrs to  liberty  are  yet  among  you,  and  their  lessons  in 
your  hearts !  Obtain  your  freedom — peaceably,  if  you 
can — but  obtain  it,  for  it  expands  and  ennobles  the  life 
of  a  nation !  In  the  air  of  liberty  alone  can  a  people 
enjoy  a  healthy  existence.  A  day  of  real  freedom  is 
worth  more  than  years  in  a  dungeon.  What  have  you 
to  dread?  Do  you  not  know  your  strength?  Be 
assured,  this  aristocracy  could  not  stand  an  hour,  were 
you  resolved  against  its  existence  !  It  would  be  swept 
away  as  a  feather  before  a  hurricane.  Do  you  fear 
that  much  blood  would  flow  in  the  struggle  ?  Consider 
the  hundreds  of  thousands  who  are  crushed  out  of  ex- 
istence every  year  'by  this  aristocracy,  and  ask  your- 
selves if  it  is  not  better  that  the  system  should  be -over- 
thrown, even  at  the  expense  of  blood,  than  that  it 
should  continue  its  destructive  career  ?  Had  not  men 
better  make  an  effort  to  secure  freedom  and  plenty  for 
their  posterity,  than  starve  quietly  by  the  wayside  ? 
These  are  th£  questions*  you  should  take  home  to  your 
hearts.  One  grand,  determined,  glorious  effort,  and 
you  are  free. 

"  Hereditary  bondsmen,  know  ye  not 
Who  would  be  free,  themselves  must  strike  the  blow  ?" 


14  DAY  USE 

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This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
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„  CIRC  DEPT 
N  1  7  1994 


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General  Library 

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